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#i was bummed when i failed the check at first bc like

sunshinexlollipops · 2 years

Text

(longer post, slightly personal)

so Mummble got super sick outta nowhere the last night and he lost a ton of weight and stopped eating. he drank a little bit mostly just kept to himself and tried to sleep.

well, I couldn't, and I stayed up all night till the first vet opened and I took him there to get checked out not even 6min after they opened. they were really nice and let me do a drop off (I didn't know they only did appointments), and he got a blood test done. he already has early onset heart disease he takes diuretics for, and so I was worried for the worst outcome.

turns out my boy developed hyperthyroidism.

it's not the best but I'm hoping he responds to meds. I'm also the pet mom who doesn't push the envelope if it ain't gonna run. so I'm hoping Bums improves and feels better.

but I had to cancel going to Florida with my parents next week, which sucks bc I was looking forward to the break and just getting to relax. and I was hoping to be able to get done writing done.

I'm gonna be real, I haven't written anything for nanowrimo yet, I have no idea what novel I even want to attempt, and I'm just running of about 2 hours of sleep in about 30hrs of time. it's been a lot. a lot has been a lot.

I don't want to trauma dump or be a drag, but I did get a slightly *displeased comment on ACW about my lack of an update, and I just have overall anxiety in terms of trying to reassure you I haven't filled the scene. I've just been going through *a lot* since February of 2020 and it really hasn't stopped since.

I'm trying my hardest right now. I'm in therapy, I'm taking supplements and new meds, I have a doc appointment tomorrow morning...

thing is: I think I may have an autoimmune disease. I'm legit balding and losing hair all over my body, and it's so bad on my that I may have to shave what's left and wear wigs. I physically feel like crap all the time and the docs I've tried to see (minus my new PCP) have been not terribly helpful...

I'm trying. sadly this is my best right now.

I'm present. I'm just not active. I'm just really tired and it's hard when you keep getting kicked when you're down so low.

I'm not trying to get out points or trauma dump, or that I'm saying you haven't been supportive. just that I feel like I fail you guys while I'm trying to not fall myself. and yes, it's a fic and it can wait, but I want to make writing my career and I'm paralyzed with it at the moment. and since I haven't had a job since April, and I've had a lot of medical costs for myself AND my pets, I'm stressing a lot about money and making things happen.

please bear with me a bit longer. or however long it takes. I promise I haven't walked away or forgotten.

but for now, I'm gonna cuddle my boy and spend time with him bc we both feel bad after today.

thank you for the supportive love you all have given so fast, as well as your steeled way of patience. 💛

#luffy posts #personal #Mummble #Luffy pets

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vanchlo · 3 years

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The Firsts / #5, “The First Time Without”

*not my gifs*

---> NEXT BLURB: Um, not sure with finals coming up . . Check the series masterlist for updates!

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

and i’m too lazy for italics bc tumblr ignores formatting like that i do in Docs so sorry

WARNINGS: Swearing, distressing topics, hella lotta angst and sadness

WORD COUNT: 16.5k words (WOWZAS!!!)

SONG: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie (click to listen)

* Sneak PeeEEEK! *

“‘ve rehearsed it so many bloody times in me head, but now, I actually get t’ talk t’ you and I can’t rememba,” he admits softly with shame painting his voice, and an out of place smile.

“All I know . . ‘s that I miss you and it scares me how much I can miss you sittin’ at a meetin’ with you across tha table. I miss you like you’ve gone . . but inna way, you have. I miss you in so many ways, walkin’ in tha door at home t’ you, findin’ you’d claimed me sofa again fer anotha day workin’ t’getha, or even that you’d be usin’ one o’ me favourite coffee mugs or jumpers. I miss those small things, and then, I even miss wakin’ up next t’ you, talkin’ t’ you ‘bout songs, ‘bout art, or gettin’ yer advice on a recipe or an argument inna case. ‘d missed you like mad befo’, but nuthin’ compares t’ this. Didn’t know I could miss somebody so much that ‘m always sore from it, that I ache when I see you and can’t touch you or talk t’ you.”

“Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the ways we expect.”

- Luna Lovegood

“You can only actually help someone who wants to be helped.”

- Jojo Moyes, Me Before You

It smelled of metal and disinfectant around me, but I tried to drown it out with the images I scroll through. The electronic beeping wormed its way into my thoughts, but I welcomed the respite from the chaos toiling around in there. Images of friends and casual strangers litter my Instagram feed and instead of looking away when the dinging stops, I continue, distracting myself. That in itself seems to be my job for the last few weeks, owned by the number one job of not thinking about it. It’s followed by another important task of not crying in public, and saving it for at home despite the place owning that name changing recently. I’ve failed at all of those jobs the second I think about the person who I called my home for so long now, and can’t any longer.

The new smell is what gets me at first, and immediately, the pictures are forgotten. I know before I look up that the facade is broken. Then, everything is shattered within a few moments, no matter how good I’ve gotten at ignoring him, or pushing down the feelings when I see him across the table at a team meeting. I’ve gotten good at the pretending part, but the only person I’ve never been able to do that around is the very one who accompanies me on the elevator now. My bad luck echoes when I finally chance a glance and I leave it for too long, because then he looks up and meets my eyes.

Harry. My home . . but he’s not that any longer.

“Hi,” he risks with a gentle curve of his lips, and a softness in his eyes that he holds in his hands for me too. A softness that never left him once I worked my way into his heart all of those years ago, it’s one that I still can’t allow myself to get rid of.

“Hi,” I return curtly, tearing my eyes away from him, and his new suit. A mauve ensemble with a raven black button up underneath. Spiffy, indeed. It feels like a mini marathon to look away from him in that suit, and how it hugs him in all of the right places. The biceps, the chest, how it opens at his wildly attractive throat, reminds me of the base that we never hit when my eyes venture too low, and his bum. No, I can’t see it from my view right now, but I’d made sure to have seen it earlier today.

“‘s good timin’, I was wonderin’ if we could talk,” he ventures out on a limb to say, and my eyes are rolling before he gets to finish.

“I don’t want to talk, Harry.”

“Becks, please, jus’ lemme finish, bug,” he says, and I wonder how he can be so gutsy to use those two coveted names within one sentence. Despite his bravery, the gesture does its job, and I gulp against the longing that climbs up my throat.

“No, you don’t get to.”

Several Weeks Earlier . . .

“And just what are you mmming about?” I giggle under the spray of kisses he scatters across my face.

“‘ve been waitin’ all day t’ smother you in kisses, that’s why,” he hums against my skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface with his warm breath so near. A laugh sings from me when his fingers linger to a ticklish spot on my side.

“Harry, don’t you dare!”

“Sorry, swear I didn’t mean t’,” he giggles in between kisses that he sponges down my chest. “Mmmm, I love these so much.”

“And why is that?”

“Why all tha questions, lovey?” he says, asking one of his own. He lifts an eyebrow at me from under the hood of his dark, thick eyelashes. A dimple collapses into his cheek while one corner of his mouth raises. “Can’t I love yer tits without havin’ t’ say why? Rather sure y’know why, anyways.”

“Yeah, you’re obsessed with them,” I say, a laugh sputtering from my lips. A groan interrupts them when he teases me with those lips. “It’d be nice if you could not make jokes about them while our coworkers are around.”

“Hey, I didn’t know My was in tha copier room, ‘s not me fault. Y’know he doesn’t give a shit about our PDA at work, and c’mon, Becks, they really did look incredible in that blouse t’day,” Harry winks from below me, lips venturing to the space above my belly button. “I love ‘em, they’re pink and perfect.”

A redness sits in my cheeks as I titter, pressing the back of my hand against my shy lips, embarrassment coating them thickly. “We should be taking down the Halloween decorations instead of this.”

“Hush you,” he murmurs.

His hair is tangled and yet handsome when I catch my fingers in it, scratching my fingernails against his scalp. My eyes stay glued to it and his figure hunched over me, lips stopping at the hem of my underwear. I already know about the smirk lining his lips when he lifts his head to pose a question to me with his eyes.

“Hmmm?” he murmurs, but I shake my head, again. “C’mon, Becks, it’d feel good, love. I wanna taste you.”

Shaking my head once more, a refusal hums from me as my cheeks turn to the color of apples that I hope he can’t see. He sighs with a shake of his head, clucking his tongue at me while pressing kisses to the inside of my leg, soon reaching the pillowy flesh of my inner thigh. Closing my eyes, I press my lips together and sigh, my arm falling over my chest. I try to remember when I had lost my shirt and when he had lost his, but these days, it’s hard to remember if it was after the first kiss or the fiftieth.

His lips reach further down my thigh and close to my blush colored underwear, a lacy part I’d bought recently. Once his lips had ventured down there, a knot inside of my stomach appeared, and it only grows tighter as his lips drop lower. It threatens to unravel when his nose brushes against the hemline, pushing it back to kiss the recently hidden flesh of my hip.

“Harry!” I exclaim, tugging softly at the hair on the nape of his neck.

“What? I was jus’ gettin’ t’ tha good part.”

“You know I’m not-.”

“I know,” he groans, situating himself high over top of me again like we had started, and with a kiss to the lips too. Despite the gesture, I can see the tension in his jaw and the annoyance in his eyes. “I can’t eat you out and I can’t fook you, so what ‘s there left fer me t’ do, huh?”

“Kiss me,” I say, and for some reason, it comes out sounding like a question. He huffs and bends down to place his lips on mine, but from the start, it doesn’t feel right. Now, I can feel the tension in his shoulders and the rigidness of his lips on mine. “What, are you not into this anymore?” I inquire after ending the kiss, twirling a curl of his around my finger on his neck.

“No, ‘s not that,” Harry answers, eyes straying from me. A hand lifts from the bed and he draws invisible shapes on my skin with the lightest of touch until it runs loose on me.

“Stop playing with my boobs and look at me,” I laugh, laying an arm across my bare chest and lifting his chin. The playful glint he so often holds in his eyes is there, but once my laugh falls away, it does too. “You’re being impatient again, aren’t you?”

“I jus’ dunno why we can’t do mo’, Becks, we’ve been t’getha ten months. Loads o’ couples have sex befo’ then and tha girlfriend lets their boyfriend eat ‘em out too.”

“We’re not other couples, Harry, and I’m just not ready,” I say, combing the stray curls off of his forehead. My hand wanders to his smooth cheeks that already feel sandpapery despite him shaving this morning, right next to me as I washed my face.

“I know, ‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Does Mr. Impatient want some head?”

“Nah, ‘m good. Let’s jus’ go eat dinna, ‘m hungry,” he says sadly, climbing off of me and the bed.

“That’s not what your dick is saying,” I respond, sitting up and pulling my shirt over my head, watching as he pulls a pair of joggers over his briefs to hide the bulge in his underwear.

“‘m fine. Now, what d’ya want fer dinna?” he continues, stepping in the hallway, forgetting his shirt on the bedroom floor.

“Dick.”

“Fine, you can make yer own dinna, sassy pants!” he calls to me, joined by the sound of his bare feet slapping on the wooden stairs.

With a sigh, I close my eyes and fall back onto the bed with a little bounce, thinking about him. I think about the look on his face when it was between my thighs, then between my breasts, and nosing at my underwear. What is wrong with me to deny that man? I don’t know, I want to do the deed with him- I want to make love to him and for him to make love to me, but for some reason, I’m just not ready. I have a weird feeling about the whole thing, like I should wait. I just wish that I knew the why.

I hear it before I see it, like I so often do. It runs a trail down the hallway and to my ears, pulling my lips into a smile long before I see the one sitting on his.

“What on your phone is so funny?” I inquire, stopping in front of his desk and dropping his mail next to his keyboard. Another giggle tickles his lips as he pinches his bottom lip between his fingers, staring at something on his phone.

“Yer dad ‘s what.”

“I should’ve known,” I sigh, falling onto one of the chairs in front of his desk, watching as his thumbs flit across the screen. “I swear, you talk to my dad more than I talk to him, and he’s my dad!”

“Uh oh, ‘s somebody gettin’ jealous now?” he teases, lifting his eyes to look at me as he sets his phone down.

“No, why would I be jealous of you texting my dad? It makes me happy.”

“Hmm, not sure I believe you, bug,” he remarks, popping a mint into his mouth, immediately chewing it. Sometimes, I really don’t get him. “Then why d’ya get so bent outta shape sometimes, hmm?”

Clucking my tongue, I huff with a smile that hugs the corner of my lips, “Maybe because he doesn’t answer when I call because he’s talking to somebody else.”

“Hey now,” Harry titters, gesturing a hand at me to come to him once I’ve stood up. “Don’t be that way.”

“I’m not being any way,” I say, turning around after considering the books he’s added to a new shelf of his. These ones are music biographies, big surprise.

“Sure ya aren’t. C’mere, me stubborn girl,” he beckons, and I obey, taking slow steps over to him until I walk between his legs. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I return, just as softly as he had uttered it. His rose lips spread into a sweet smile, reminding me why it’s always so damn hard to stay mad at him.

“Are you grumpy?” Harry asks with the most adorable of pouts poised on his lips, winking at me.

“No, I’m not grumpy. Are you ready to get started on this case? We really can’t be dawdling, you know.”

“I know,” he answers, sadness stuck to his words. It guides his actions that lead him to look away from me, pulling me closer until he rests his forehead below my collarbone.

“Then why are you these last few days? I thought you were so excited that we got this case, everybody else fought us for it.”

“I am, but ‘s intimidatin’. I dunno if ‘m cut out fer it,” he says, slowly extending his fingers along the small of my back, and then pulling them back into a fist. In and out. In and out. “What if we can’t win it, Becks?” he asks, lifting his head to meet my eyes, and I wish I couldn’t see the blatant fear held in them.

“Then we can’t. We can only do our best, Harry, that’s what you’ve always told me.”

“And what if my best isn’t good enough? Ev’rybody ‘cross tha whole bloody world ‘s watchin’ this case, waitin’ t’ see what happens,” he continues, avoiding my eyes entirely, now tracing the pattern on the front of my blouse.

“It will be, and it is, Harry. I promise you.”

His head slowly moves up and down, but no words leave him. His questions bounce off the walls in my mind, replaying themselves, and I only wish that I could express my worry too. I’d certainly grown more confident in my abilities since I started working with him, and I owed it not just to his teachings, but also the confidence that he’s instilled in me. I hadn’t given him the go ahead for us to split a case equal between us, and I never knew when I’d be ready for that, so I’d always leaned on him and his skills, but now I was worried to do that. I’m afraid to, and I’d never been before.

“Everything will be okay, Harry.”

“I hope so, Becks,” he croaks, laying his forehead on my chest and his closing eyes flutter against my skin softly. I hold in the sigh that I want to let fall, but instead, I run my fingers through his hair and down his back, unsure of what more I can do. If there was anything I couldn’t be sure of, it was the future and what it held, and how little I knew what was coming.

It started that night, daunting and unwilling to let go, and if only I’d known what it was the beginning of.

I kept checking my phone, staring at the clock that moved like molasses, and waiting for the text that wouldn’t come. Exhaling loudly, I swipe across the screen until his name is waiting for me, and I do it before I can stop myself.

Are you on your way home yet? It’s supposed to snow tonight, maybe it is already. I don’t want you to get caught in it with bad roads

The word ‘delivered’ appears and then stares back at me, almost taunting me. Before my eyes, it changes to ‘read’ and I wait for the gray bubble to pop up on his side, but it doesn’t. I watch and I wait, and nothing happens. No thumbs up, no text reaction, no ‘b home soon,’ like he so often sends. Not a thing. I forget how long I sit there watching my phone screen, tapping at it when it grows dark, and wishing he’d send something. It got even later when I finally press the lock button and set my phone down on the nightstand, glancing at the alarm clock beside it.

11:38.

I tried not to worry and I tried not to overthink it, but I was already past that when I turned off the light. My heart continued to ram against my ribs as I slid under the cold blankets in an empty bed, watching the steady glow of the streetlamp outside the window. I lied there and I tried and I wanted to, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I had a hard time remembering the last time I had slept in a bed without him, even before I moved in we had sleepovers at his. I wasn’t sure how I’d get any sleep for another day of work tomorrow, knowing that I’d be up in seven hours, and so would he. That’s if I could shut off all of this worrying and fall asleep, if only.

I listen to the whir of cars passing along on the street, and I find myself wishing one of them is his, but it’s too long until it actually is. The space around me had grown warm, but if I move a leg too far, I’m greeted by icy sheets. It had never been that way, I could always move a little and find him and his warmth. Sometimes, I’d wake in the morning and he was all around me, clinging to me and my heat.

It was in the middle of a long, sleepy blink that I heard a door open downstairs, and shut. It was loud, a clumsy kind of one, and so are the footsteps that soon come up the stairs. A sigh tickles my ears before the door opens slowly with a squeak, and his feet pad through our bedroom. I only see a flash of him before he ducks into the ensuite bathroom with what looks like a handful of clothes. I watch the shadows that interrupt the bar of light under the door, and listen to his whistling and humming amidst the sloshing of running water.

His eyes are tired when he opens the door again, and they only look all the more exhausted when they find mine in the lit darkness.

“Why aren’t you sleepin’, bug?” he rasps, stepping forward in his outfit of nothing but joggers donning his legs. He claims that he can’t wear a shirt without getting too warm, because I heat the entire bed, or so he says. Right now, I don’t believe it.

“I couldn’t . . without you.”

“Oh, Becks,” he frowns, padding across the hardwood floor and pulling back the sheets to slip under them. “Brr, ‘m cold, warm me up, would ya?”

“Ugh, you’re freezing!” I exclaim, my nervousness melting away into giggles that tickle his neck as he wraps me in his arms.

“Mmmm, now that’s better.”

I hum a reply into his chest, dragging my fingers along his spine, touching the wispy baby hairs that cover his body like down. The questions from before still rummage around in my mind, looking for purchase.

“Why were you out so late?” I decide to ask, smelling the toothpaste we use on my own breath, and then his.

“Didn’t mean t’, jus’ lost track o’ time with Rore. We had some drinks and I didn’t wanna drive home buzzed, so I waited it out and had some waters.”

“Good boy,” I reply, nuzzling into his cozy chest, feeling the feathery hair there tickle my face. Yawning, I let my body relax now that mine is finally back with his, one specific question hiding in the back of my mind. “But why didn’t you answer?” I mumble without caution, feeling myself begin to melt into a puddle of sleep against him.

“Answer what?”

“Your phone,” I drawl, losing the feeling of my fingers and then my feet.

“Jus’ go t’ sleep, bug. It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” I hum in reply, not even sure of what he’d just said. “Goodnight, Harry. Love you.”

“Night, my Becks,” he responds with a peck to my head, sounding far away.

The tapping of my shoes against the tiling fills my ears as I flip through his mail, noting which ones should go on top for him to see first, and what can remain at the bottom to be forgotten about until later. Something I’d accidentally fall back into the habit of when I returned to the firm, despite being a lawyer now, and not his assistant. Humming a tune I had heard earlier today, I look up and stop in his doorway, finding myself in an odd moment. With his eyes bent down, I can tell that he doesn’t know I’m there yet, and that he does it because he doesn’t see me.

“What are you doing? It’s nine o’clock,” I titter, covering my mouth when my voice scares him, causing the brown liquid to spill over the side of his mug.

“God, can ya maybe not scare tha shit outta me next time?” Harry almost retorts, mopping it up with a napkin before screwing the cap back onto the bottle.

“Harry, I said, what are you doing?” I repeat, click clacking my way into his office and dropping his mail on his desk, yet again.

“What? ‘s jus’ whiskey. Can I not make my coffee a li’l irish ev’ry now and then?” he questions, lifting the tall mug to his lips to sip from, steaming wafting against his face.

“I guess so,” I trail off, waltzing back to the sofa and picking up my laptop. Sitting down, I place it on my lap and open it back up, watching the long pull he takes from the mug. Bringing up the internet browser I was using before, I scroll through the document as I try to forget watching him fill the mug nearly half of the way with whiskey.

“Harry?” I call out, toeing off my chestnut colored winter boots, hoping he won’t notice the puddle of water next to the shoe mat. He’s such a dad with the things he gets cross about, I swear. “Hello, are you home yet? I brought you some leftovers from Skye’s, you know, for dinner.”

Padding into the house, I’m met with darkness and a soft silence. I don’t find my boyfriend sprawled out on the sofa in the living room, a show on the telly. I walk past the large flat screen and knock on the door of his study before pushing it open, finding that that room is also dark.

“Harry, hello?” I almost shout again, taking the steps two at a time until I reach our bedroom, wondering if he was taking a nap after his early morning, or if he happened to not be feeling well. Once again, I come up empty handed, and my head begins to spin as the cogs turn inside of it.

“Hullo?” the voice on the other side says whilst I pad down the stairs quickly.

“Hi, where are you?”

“‘m at tha pub with My, why?” he says, and I can tell by the sound of clinking glasses and loud voices coming from his side.

“Oh, just wondering. I thought you said you were coming straight home to work more on the case,” I begin, intending to continue but I don’t get the chance to.

“No, I spent all bloody day workin’ on it, why should I spend me night off pourin’ over it too?” he nearly retorts, and I stop in my tracks before the island, taken aback by his tone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t say you had to or anything, Harry. Is something wrong?”

“No, ‘d jus’ appreciate not havin’ you nag me like yer me mother or sumthin’. ‘m an adult, can’t I go out fer a drink at tha pub afta work? Reckon ‘ve deserved it, dontch’u think?” he continues with a carry to his voice that I don’t like, and it only begins to make sense once I’ve picked out the slur in his words.

“Yeah, of course, just don’t drink too much, okay? And drive safe. Maybe don’t stay out as late as last night, you have an early meeting.”

“I jus’ said don’t bloody nag me, and look what ya start doin’,” he bites back and I shudder, taking a seat at the island to steady my feet.

“I didn’t mean to, Harry, I just care-.”

“If ya fookin’ care so much, Becky, then stop treatin’ me like a damn baby,” he spits at me, and I hear the dial tone.

“What the fuck?” I mutter under my breath, pulling my phone away from my ear. I grimace at the image on my lockscreen that only makes the wound sting worse.

Dinner went down harshly and so did the glass of wine that I had with it although regrettably. Watching FRIENDS without him was a bore and it didn’t last long, afraid I’ll only piss him off further if he came home to see me skipping ahead in our show without him there. I whittled away at the next things to be done in the case - research this, research that, take notes on this, get these statements, bladdy blah. All just to busy my mind and to make the clock speed along until he came home, and hopefully, when things would go back to normal.

Before I knew it, it was getting late and I was still home all alone. A warm bath didn’t calm my nerves and it only made me wish that he was sitting across from me under the suds, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t lying in the bed waiting for me when I got out, skin all shriveled like prunes, no matter how badly I wished he’d be home after my long bath. He hadn’t walked in the door after I read a chapter from my book, spoke on the phone with my dad, or wrote in my journal. I at last flicked off the bedside lamp and tried to fall asleep in a cold bed, once again.

I woke with a start to a loud slam! downstairs on the main level of the house, presumably a door. Failing to ignore it, I turn over and tug the covers higher, unable to tune out the sound of his loud footsteps climbing the stairs. Sinking lower into the messy covers, I keep my eyes shut and listen to his sloppy movements before they arrive him in the bed next to me with a huff. Words sit in my throat, itching to be said, but I only let one of them out.

“Harry?”

It had become old, very swiftly and very quickly. For the next few nights, I sat alone at home, wondering and waiting for texts that never came, only to fall into a fitful sleep in a cold bed, all alone. I’d awake the next morning to the sound of him emptying his stomach into the toilet, and either leaving for work without me, or being a monumental crab-ass on the drive there. As the days carried on, I couldn’t remember for the life of me the last time his coffees weren’t Irish. I ignored it, and after a few days of doing that, I knew that that’s where my mistakes had begun.

The door slowly creaked open and dragged in was him, glossy eyed and surprise etched on his features.

“What d’ya want, mum? Gonna chew me out fer stayin’ out past me bedtime?” he jokes at me, closing the bedroom door behind him as he waltzes in wearing a disheveled version of today’s suit.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask, twisting the rings around on my fingers, lingering on a new one that had appeared on my hand last week. Sometimes, it hurt to remember that it was there, but I could never get myself to take it off.

“Oh, here we go,” he sighs, slamming closed a drawer to his wardrobe. Avoiding my eyes, he unclasps his belt and lets his trousers fall to the floor. “Nuthin’s goin’ on with me, I dunno why ya think sumthin’ ‘s.”

“Yes, there is, Harry. You’ve been out late drinking every night this week, and I’m sick of it!” I confess quietly, unsure of where to find the fervor in my voice, or well, the volume. An ironic laugh curves at his lips as he undoes the buttons of his crimson red shirt.

“I don’t rememba askin’ how ya felt ‘bout it, or needin’ yer permission eitha,” he retorts, achieving malice and cruel intent in a matter of seconds. It’s all too much when he meets my eyes with his unforgiving stare, and I have to look away.

“Why are you acting like this?” I say, the incoming tears already decorating my words. His heavy sigh only makes my throat burn worse with its impending dryness.

“What, are ya gonna fookin’ cry now? Bloody hell, ya can be a brat when ya wanna be,” he slurs, slinking off his button down that hits the floor silently. Sniffling, I look up and watch him slide on pajama bottoms to cover his dark black briefs.

His tattoos grab at my attention from across the room, but I don’t want to fall asleep tracing them like I would any other night, because that’s not him standing across from me. It may have taken me a few days too long to realize this, but it’s not. That’s not my Harry. No, it’s the Harry that I first met that September day when he barked his Starbucks order at me.

“It’s the case, isn’t it? It’s taking too much of a toll on you, Harry. You should give it up, or hand it off to somebody else. I don’t like this you, you’re drinking too much and-.”

“Did I ask fer yer opinion? Y’know what? No, I don’t rememba that. Now, my bloody god, would ya leave it be so I can get some sleep?” he interrupts in a retort, heavy feet padding around to the other side of the bed with a wobbliness to them. He rips back the covers and sits down, grabbing his charger to plug his phone in. Swiping at my cheeks, I grab my pillow and anxiously begin my trek to the door. “Goin’ t’ sleep on tha sofa, are ya now? Good, maybe you’ll stop naggin’ on me then.”

His voice that usually would lull me to sleep and drive the demons away instead keeps me away, guiding me down the steps until I stop on the last one. My butt burns when it falls onto the wooden step and I bury my face in my knees, my chest shaking with a new sob.

I eventually scrounge up the might and energy to pull myself off of the staircase and across the room until I collapse onto the sofa, and cry myself into an uneasy sleep.

The smell of eggs and toast wakes me the next morning, but the illusion is broken when I hear the slam of the door to the garage, and the hum of his car pulling away.

The sounds of Mozart and Beethoven meander around my office, but they fail to drive away the incessant thoughts that have buried their way into my mind. They mask the signalling sound of his footsteps that I could pick out from a crowd.

“Hey, ‘m done with me meetin’ now. Ya wanna come t’ mine and we can finish up the openin’ statement?” he says, but as much as my heart reaches out for him, I can’t do it after the other night. Sure, casual conversation had happened since then, but he had also been missing in action for almost the entire weekend recently. A nice dinner together last night wasn’t enough to wash away the hurt from that night, and all of the others. “Becks?” Harry repeats, taking a step into my office. The door closes with a squeak that I’ve been meaning to ask him to get fixed, but something as simple as that hadn’t seemed possible in the last week, and neither had a kiss or a hug. Not even on our official ten month anniversary that came and went uncelebrated yesterday, despite his urging last week that we should do something to celebrate it.

“No thanks, I’m fine in here,” I say softly, feeling the eggshells underneath my feet as the words make their way out.

“Uh, okay,” he answers. “‘ll grab you fer lunch with me mum in an hour then. She picked Henry’s down tha street fer pizza. We haven’t been there in a while,” he finishes, and I wonder how he can manage such small talk after the things he had said to me. I ask and come up empty when I question how I could even let him.

“And again, why are you hiding out in my office?”

“I’m not hiding out in your office,” I insist, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before resuming my typing.

“Uh, yeah you are. You have your own office, don’t you remember?”

“What, I can’t hang out with my friend and work together?” I say, lifting my eyes to meet Asher’s sky blue pair that squint at me in question. He shakes his head with his lips parted, ready to say something, but he just sighs without an answer.

“What tha hell?” somebody shouts, the blinds on Asher’s door swinging and swaying after the initial shock of its opening. I see Ash’s look before the intruder’s, but I’m afraid that I already know what it will be.

“Harry-,” I begin, standing to my feet and pushing my laptop to the side, unsure of how I didn’t see this coming.

“I was waitin’ fer you fer half an hour at tha restaurant, and so was me mum. You stood us up and wouldn’t answer yer fookin’ phone!” he explodes, taking another step inside Asher’s office. Asher begins to say something to him, but I get lucky and push Harry out of the room before he can get a chance to respond. “And you’d been sittin’ in there tha whole fookin’ time?” he continues, his words soon sounding different when I push him into the lift.

“Now, you know how it feels.”

“Know how what feels?” he bites back, prying my hand from his arm and taking a step back. I press a button at random and try to push down the hurt I felt when he picked my hand off of him.

“To be waiting around for you, and to be stood up by you. You’ve been doing it to me for the last week, so it’s only right that you feel a little bit of my pain,” I say curtly, swinging around to face him, watching the smug grin plaster itself to his face as he wipes at his mouth.

“So, this ‘s ‘bout you, ‘s it? God, what’s fookin’ new?” he sighs with an ironic laugh that feels gross in my ears.

“No, it’s not about me, Harry, I-.”

“D’ya know how that looked t’ me mum? I couldn’t get you on tha phone and ya never showed up. Ya made it look like we’re havin’ problems, Becks,” he says, stepping into my sentence, and this only gets me going further.

“Who’s to say we aren’t, Harry?!”

“‘Scuse me? We aren’t havin’ problems,” he begins, denying my claim as he uses his hands to talk. “We’re fine!”

“Yes, we are, Harry! You get drunk every night after work- wait, let me start over. You pregame with Irish coffees all day at work, and then disappear every night to the pub only to come home around midnight out of your mind drunk!” I exclaim, feeling my blood boil as he shakes his head in disagreement, but I wish I could say that I’m surprised.

“Yer not turnin’ this ‘round on me,” he tuts, pointing a finger at me as ice coats his words. “I have a drink or two at tha pub, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

“It’s not a few drinks, Harry, it’s more than that and it’s becoming a problem! You have a drinking problem!” I insist, wishing I knew the magic key for how to get my words across to him, but they falter and run off on me.

“I don’t have a drinkin’ problem, Becks, and ‘m gettin’ real fookin’ sick o’ you always monitorin’ me like ‘m a bloody baby! ‘m not, ‘m a grown ass adult, and if ya forgot, ‘m yer bleedin’ boss ‘round here. ‘m not likin’ tha attitude yer havin’ with me and if ya continue it, ‘ll take ya off the Gellar case.”

“Fine, take me off it. I don’t give one fuck, Harry, because it’s hell working with you on that case. You’re almost drunk all day at work, you give me the shitty jobs to do, and now, here’s a perfect example of you taking your shit out on me!” I argue back, but the fire soon disappears in my words, and with my next ones, I watch it extinguish on his face. “Why are you treating me like this? I-I’m concerned for you and I’m trying to help, and you’re being so mean to me. It’s inexcusable . . I want my Harry back . . I wish you’d never taken this high profile case, because it’s destroying you, and I’m scared that it’ll do the same to us.”

A flash of my Harry appears on his face, but I don’t wait to watch it disappear, walking off the lift and back onto Seventeen and away from him.

My feet seem to have a mind of their own the next day, inching one way and then itching to go in another. I ignore them and remain in my office for another day of sulking, trying to apply myself to this new case with Rose, but it’s a swing and a miss. The buzzing of my phone is something I’ve learned to ignore, but when I see that it’s my dad or Skye, both of whom I’ve neglected to tell about Harry and I, it becomes all the harder.

That thought is dislodged by the knock at my door, a simple gesture that as of late can send my stomach into somersaults, wondering who it is. I’m reminded too quickly of the times when I sat at that shitty desk in the corner, and how I feel far too much like that person right now. The girl who was unappreciated and who was treated like shit by her boss.

“Hey. I thought today’s meeting was cancelled, something about Myles being out and the drunk that I regrettably call my boyfriend is well, drunk again,” I say, hoping the man of the hour isn’t passing behind Rose right this second to hear my speech.

“No, um, it’s still off. I uh . . “

“Spit it out already. What’s wrong?” I ask, screwing open my water bottle and slowly pouring a small stream of water into the succulent on the corner of my desk. Harry’s plant, the very one he’d named Frankie all that time ago. For what reason, I don’t remember. “I don’t know what that look is for, it’s not like my life could get any worse right now . . or can it?”

“It can,” she says, breaking the ice, but I’m not sure if she’s doing it slowly or ripping off the bandaid in one pull. “Harry’s telling people that you quit the case because you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“God, I really am going to kick the shit out of him one of these times,” I groan, setting down the steel water bottle loudly and haphazardly screwing the cap on.

“Becky, don’t,” she warns me, stepping forward and trying to block my path to the door, but she hasn’t even made a dent. “Starting another row with him isn’t going to help anything. I just saw him and he’s practically asleep at his desk, he’s drunk so much.”

“I don’t bloody care, I’m not going to let him spread rumors about me, his own fucking girlfriend,” I retort, taking the last step until she’s practically shoving at my shoulders. Huffing, I meet her eyes and for an instant, I feel bad for her and what she’s had to watch. “Rose, don’t. Please. I need to speak to him. I’m sick of his immature teenager act, he’s being a right asshole, and he deserves to be told it.”

“Fine,” she sighs softly, hands dropping before she steps to the side.

My feet pound around the corner and down the hall, taking only a few moments until I arrive at his door. I savor the way he jumps in his chair when I slam his door shut, only to sink back into the expanse of pricey leather.

“What d’ya want? ‘m tryin’ t’ sleep here, haven’t ya noticed?” Harry drawls, sleepily. His eyes flutter closed again and he swallows before trying to get comfortable in his chair again.

“Well, maybe if you came home at a half decent time each night you wouldn’t be falling asleep at work, but I guess you just can’t put down the bottle, Harry. By the looks of it, you can’t at work, either,” I say, curling my lip when I see the empty bottle of vanilla whiskey sat open on his desk. God, he really is going to get his ass fired or demoted one of these times, not to mention start a smear campaign for the firm.

“This shit again? I don’t wanna fookin’ hear it, Becks. Give it a rest, ‘m a grown adult, I can do what I please.”

“So talking shit about me to your coworkers is doing as you please, is it now?” I say, coming out and dealing it, right then and there. Something in him stills and his eyes slowly open and try to focus on me. I think I see apology and regret in them, but I whip off any rose colored glasses I still had on and chuck them to the side. “I’m your girlfriend, Harry . . What the fuck is wrong with you?” I exhale, feeling the first tear when I blink and turn away from him. I try to ignore the pang I feel in my chest when I don’t hear my favorite voice calling my nickname from behind me, but I guess it’s time that he stopped chasing after me. It seems to be coming to an end . . I just wish I’d known when the beginning was.

After a quiet cry and a few YouTube videos, I meander my way to the break room for my lunch, bumping shoulders with somebody when I walk in the door. Automatic ‘sorrys’ leave our lips as I continue my mission to the fridge where my leftovers sit. Leftovers from another lonely dinner without Harry last night.

“You alright, Becky?”

“What?” I ask in surprise, at last looking up to find the culprit of the question. “Oh, Myles, hi. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it. Harry doesn’t either lately, there isn’t a theme, is there?” he almost jokes, but I don’t laugh as I press random numbers on the microwave. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m alright, thanks. No offense, but you’re kind of the biased best friend. Trust me, I know. I have one of them too.”

“Well, trust me, ‘cause I’m not,” he insists, and when I look around, pretending to take a gander, my eyes drift to the door habitually. “Here, maybe this’ll help.”

I watch him cross the room to stick a key into the door and the lock flicks with a metallic sound.

“What will people do without their tea and lunch? You may as well be starting a mutiny,” I say, trying to lighten the atmosphere around us, but I find it’s no use when he stops at my side with a grim expression.

“I haven’t seen him drink this much, since well . . you left.”

“Huh,” I hum, less of a question and more of a realization, one I hadn’t wanted to make. “He’s sure doing a good job of working towards that again . . I hear he’s been saying things about me.”

“Swear I haven’t heard a thing, and if I did, I wouldn’t believe a word that comes from his drunk ass lately.”

“It seems you’re the only one,” I laugh almost ironically, but it comes out sounding sad as can be. Hoping and praying, I try to hide the sniffle as the microwave door opens with a pop!

“Sure I’m not.”

“Rose told me he’s telling people I left the Gellar case because I was scared, when in truth, he kicked me off it because I’ve been on his ass about staying out late every night drinking,” I risk, staring down at the steaming container of food, forgetting the spoon set to the side to stir it at the halfway mark. “He’s my boyfriend, and my best friend. He’s supposed to protect me from the people who want to hurt me, not become one of them,” I reveal, each word becoming heavier with tears that try to swallow my voice. “Why is he doing this, Myles? This isn’t the Harry I know . . it’s that one I first met.”

“Oh, Becky,” he sighs, stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. “I don’t know. I wish I could tell you why, I’ve wondered meself . . He’s got issues, even he knows it, but . . he has a hard time of dealing with ‘em. He ignores ‘em instead, with whiskey. You shouldn’t take it like this, it’s not fair to you.”

“I try. I’ve tried talking to him and being nice about it, but he doesn’t listen to me. He won’t stop drinking and it scares me, how he acts and the things he says,” I confess in a blubbery voice against his suit jacket. “I never thought I’d have to do this and I hate that I have to . . but I don’t want him to be my mentor anymore, Myles, please. Maybe Rose, instead. Can you do it without him finding out and getting even more mad at me?”

“Yeah, I can sneak it past him, don’t worry.”

“I wish I could,” I nearly whisper, pulling away and grabbing the hot container whilst I swipe at my wet cheeks, ignoring the burning heat against my skin, knowing that that’s the mildest pain I’ve felt in days.

A few days later, I’m greeted by darkness and silence after the key clicks in the lock, and my footstep is the first sound in the house.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” the words echo inside of my skull, but I can’t find the confidence I had when I had first heard them, when I need it so badly right now. “I’ll support whatever decision you make, Ree, and you know you always have a place to stay here.”

“Thanks, Skye,” I had said then, and I mutter now too as I stop in front of our bedroom door. The quiet embeds itself into every nook and cranny, but I welcome it and only wish that it could replicate itself in my mind.

The pounding of my heart grows louder when I push the door open, and the beginning tears don’t mask it when I drop the suitcase onto the bed. The sounds only worsen as I open drawers and take items out to fill the zippers, leaving an emptiness behind that couldn’t compare to that I hold inside of me.

My head moves every which way, trying to memorize the sights around me, but all I see and all I hear are the rows we’d had the last few nights here. In the kitchen after he tried to sneak inside reeking of whiskey, or the night before in the living room when he came home shouting at me about why I didn’t finish the opening statement, despite being dropped from his case. Then another over him growing mad with me for not answering my phone, deciding if he wasn’t going to answer my texts and calls, then why should I bother to answer his.

I feel the grooves and the raised edges, sure I’d at least memorized those as I pull it from my pocket, watching the color blur before my eyes. My thumb slides across the medal wet from my uncontrollable tears, and at last, I place it on the island counter with a small clack!, finally letting go.

“What’re ya doin’?” a voice says softly out of nowhere. Spinning around, I blink back the tears until Harry focuses in front of me. His thick eyebrows furrow above his murky greens, and only then do I see his boots kicked off by the doorway that had gone unnoticed by me, and his coat draped over the staircase newel.

“H-Harry,” I stutter, swallowing against a dry throat that deprives me of any explanations I could muster.

“Becks, what’re ya doin’? It looks like . . . ,” he trails off to look at the item, his words escaping him until they shine brightly in his eyes, and wrench at my heart. “Looks like yer movin’ out, and without even tellin’ me. What, was I supposed t’ come home t’night t’ find yer key on tha counter, and piece it all t’getha meself? And tha night befo’ I leave fer me case? How in tha hell ‘s that any fair, Becks?”

“Harry, I- please-.”

“No, why should I let ya explain? It doesn’t seem ya were gonna bother t’ leave me a note or even break it t’ me,” he continues quietly with astonishment wild on his face, and in his voice that smells rough and hard with alcohol.

“Harry, I was just going to stay at Skye’s tonight and while you were away. I-.”

“Then why leave tha key, huh?” he asks, voice growing firm and so does the green in his eyes. “God, ‘m so sick o’ arguin’ with you, seems that’s all we do lately. ‘m jus’, ‘m done, Becks. I really am.”

“Harry, no. Please, don’t say that. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying,” I say hurriedly, stepping forward and dropping the bag. It hits the floor with a bang! just as he turns away while dragging a hand down his face.

“I know what ‘m sayin’, Becks, and I know ‘m done dealin’ with all o’ this shit. Fer havin’ such an ungrateful girlfriend who nit picks ev’ry li’l thing I do, ‘cuz ‘s jus’ never good enough fer her.”

“Harry, that’s not true,” I sob, following him with my steps that feel more heavier as I continue, but he seems to be moving further and further away from me.

“It ‘s tho’, y’know it ‘s. ‘m . . . ‘m doin’ it fer you, ‘kay? ‘m doin’ what ya can’t do, ‘m callin’ it. We’re done, we’re breakin’ up. We both knew it was comin’,” he mutters, and I no longer can make out the sounds in his voice or what it holds, because I can barely see him through the waterfall of tears.

“Please, Harry, I don’t want to break up. I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes sorry doesn’t cut it, isn’t that whatch’u say t’ me?” he retorts, at last stopping to face me fully. The splashes of black and brown covering his body turn ashier and darker the longer I look, but it doesn’t compare to the look on his face.

“But I love you . . and I know that you love me too.” His eyes run away from me and finally, so do his words. “Harry, say it back, please. We can just pretend this didn’t happen, and go to bed together. We can sleep it off and talk about it in the morning before your flight,” I cry, watching his face devoid of emotion show me nothing when I can’t stop showing him. When I could never learn how to close myself off to him, he finally learned how to close his book to me so I could stop reading him.

He stares at the floor, his only movements are his eyes blinking and his hand scratching at the back of his head. The seemingly permanent glossiness to his eyes wavers and tears appear in them, but something pulls me backwards and away from him. I take the steps and wish that they could rewind time too, but they only bring me to the case that I place in my hand without deciding to. I look up and walk over to him, unsure of when my legs had begun to move, or if my body was doing all of this for me, because it figured out that I can’t. I just, I can’t.

“Go, Becks, ‘kay? ‘ve made me mind up, we’re over. Leave befo’ tha snowstorm gets too bad,” Harry announces in an absent, choked voice, his hand falling from his head as my chest shakes with sob after sob. His eyes budge up a little but they avoid mine entirely, and so does he as he walks around me and up the stairs.

I don’t remember deciding to walk out the front door, or getting into my car, but I’m there when I curl inward on myself as tears cascade down my face. I’m fully there as the stitches that he put in my heart are ripped open and all of the memories that he filled my heart with spill out, stinging one by one. I’m there as I watch the lights in the house turn off and the one for our bedroom turns on, and I immediately correct myself, knowing that it’s not ours anymore. I sit there until I can muster the energy to drive, telling myself that he’s not mine anymore, and I was a right idiot for ever telling myself that he was.

The sheets are cold when the blaring of the alarm awakens me, and I turn over, inching a foot across the mattress in search. It’s met with only coldness and I slowly peel my eyes open, searching with them now, for her. Sitting up, I rub a knuckle into my bleary eyes, trying to focus my sight on the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

Questions fill me and answers fleet me as I pad down the stairs and past the front door, arriving in the kitchen. Turning a light on, I squint at the sudden brightness that sends throbs through my head. It’s accompanied by another throb when I spot the lone purple key sitting on the marbled countertop, away from the half burned candle and the cribbage board with a deck of cards atop it.

I’m not sure how I got there, but I feel the cold of the wood floor all around me next, accompanied by the hot tears flowing down my cheeks. The answers come fast and painful in my insides, and opening my eyes, I watch last night replay before me, and what I did. What I did to her, and to us. Myles’ words over the last few weeks resound in my head, and they won’t stop.

“The fuck are you doing? You’re going to screw everything up if you don’t stop before it’s too late!”

“It is too late,” I mutter under my breath, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath my forehead as I curl inside myself, wishing she could come and save me. But that’s the last thing that’s going to walk in that door, because I made it so she has to save herself, and so do I.

Violins and harps dance around my empty office, and I try not to look up and lose myself in the images of memories that seem to stick to every corner of the room. Him opening birthday presents on the sofa, the makeout sessions on the same piece of furniture, the almost first kiss by my window, the first time I saw my office with him in tow, and all of the times he’d work over my shoulder planting kisses along my neck. So many more of them float around the space vying for my attention, but it’s stolen away when there’s a rap on my door.

“Come in,” I say automatically, looking back at my computer screen, putting back on the mask that I’ve donned for however long it’s been now since it all started, and the three days since he left. The ‘I’m okay’ mask, something I can’t even believe.

“Look at my pretty girl,” they say, and despite the way I could never mistake that very voice, for a split second I want to and wish that I could be right in my mistaking. It takes more than I have to look away and up at him, and the tears are already close and on their way when he smiles the saddest kind of one at me.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” I ask in near alarm, standing to my feet, afraid of what his answer might be. His lips fall flat and my confirmation is right there, although I’m unsure if I ever needed it, because he speaks for it himself.

“Skye told me what happened with Harry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he almost coos, and holds out his arms before I could ask. They’re open for mere seconds before they close around me and my shaking figure. “It’s okay, Boops, I’m here. It’s all going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t know if there will ever be a time again that I feel okay,” I sob into his shoulder, gradually finding my words and feeling the sting of having to repeat it for the second or third time. The sting grows worse remembering the morning after crying on Skye’s lap and not knowing if I’d ever be able to stop. No matter what time it is, it never gets easier. I don’t think if I’d had any warning, it would’ve been any less harder.

The raucous of laughter, shouts, and praises sound outside the door and I wish I knew why. Shaking my head at the obscene volume, I flip to the next page of the magazine, finding DIY Christmas decorations that according to this magazine, everybody and anybody can make.

“No, thank you,” I mutter to myself, completely vetoing Christmas this year, despite knowing that I’ll have to make it to Madley for the traditional weekend spent at my dad’s in only a few weeks. I just don’t know how I’m going to manage it knowing the person I can’t take with me anymore whose name will be on presents sitting under the tree. The same name claims gifts that I’d hidden in the attic at ho- at his home, long forgotten by now, or I wish.

“Hell, you really do get prettier ev’ry day,” somebody mumbles from behind me, and I pause mid page flip. I’m glad that I wasn’t holding my tea, or else I know it’d be painted all over the front of my heather gray dress. Now, that would be a disaster, but I know it doesn’t compare to the one that intends to unfold within the next few moments. Swallowing hard, I silently turn to the next page and ignore the greeting.

“Ya weren’t at me welcome home party that the firm threw fer me.”

“There wasn’t enough room,” is all I say, neglecting to mention that I had no idea until now, despite should’ve knowing how the pieces went together. His appearance. The loud voices and cheering just outside the door that’s only a few steps from the lift. It’s my saving grace for how I was rarely ever late back in the day. “You won it,” I remark, sure it’s less of a question and more of a statement.

“I did.”

“Congrats, you put on a good defense from what I hear,” I announce in a voice devoid of the emotion that usually accompanies that word.

“Thanks . . but I don’t deserve it,” he begins shyly, and I hold back my response that only eggs his self-deprecation on. “I dunno how I did it tho,’ ‘cuz all I could think ‘bout tha whole I was there was you. Ev’ry second fer that entire week it was, ‘what ‘s Becks doin’?,’ ‘what’ll I say t’ her when I get home,’ ‘what can I say t’ her,’ ‘I dunno what t’ do at this part, what would she do?’” he pours out, and I gulp past the impending desert that’s signalled its return. No, I’d made it a few days now without them, I can’t break that streak now. No, not now. Please.

“It seems you didn’t need it, you did just fine without me,” I answer bleakly, aware of the knives that my voice holds and how they stab with the voice devoid of anything happy and bright.

“That’s not true,” he argues, and I hear the first step, and feel it in the hairs rising on the back of my neck. I feel it in the squeeze of my heart and the goosebumps on my arms that long for his touch and also fear it. I hear the crack in his voice and the wet sniffle that plays in the empty room. “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you and how I fooked ev’rythin’ up, even befo’ I left. I woke up that mornin’ and knew ‘d done it . . ‘d jus’ been home befo’ here and all o’ yer things were gone, and I never thought comin’ home could be so fookin’ hard . . I-I tried so many times t’ get ahold o’ you but ya wouldn’t answer, and I can’t blame ya. I can’t believe how I treated you, Becks, and ‘m so fookin’ sorry . . . I haven’t touched a bleedin’ drop since that last night, and I never want t’ ‘gain. I never want t’ go that long without talkin’ t’ you ‘gain, it felt like I was losin’ me mind ev’ry fookin’ day missin’ you so badly. Meant it when I said ‘m not sure how I won tha case when I couldn’t get you off me mind.”

“Get used to it,” I retort, closing the magazine swiftly and spinning around. Flashes of color greet me, but I turn away from his figure and make for the door.

“Becks, please, don’t,” he begs in a voice spilling with emotion. “‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he whimpers, the warmth of his fingers pressed to mine feeling like the first rays of sun in the spring. Ripping my hand from his, I don’t let him try to melt the ice that he planted inside of me.

“No, Harry, you don’t get to just waltz in here and sorry your way out of this. It’s not that easy this time,” I say, hoping he feels the bite of my words, but I see it when I take the leap and look into those endless greens. “You really fucking hurt me, Harry . . You were my best friend and you hurt me more than anybody I know . . You were supposed to protect me from others doing that to me, but you did it too. How can I ever trust you again?” I begin to cry, knowing that it’s about to be Niagra in here if I don’t skedaddle. Whimpering, I dash out of the door with the image of his flooded sage eyes stinging in my own, and how my heart lurches at the regret of not wiping them away.

His eyes drift repeatedly from the floor to ceiling window and back to his wrist, tapping at it only to walk away with disappointment. He may have closed his book to me, but I still remember so many of the pages, and I can’t figure out how I could ever stop knowing what they say. After Myles finishes speaking about the upcoming elder’s meetings, his bottom lip becomes caught between his teeth like a vice, and then I know it’s bad. I look away when a few too many seconds have followed, risking that he’ll catch my stare. If he’s found it in the recent few days since we last spoke in between tears and in between pages of a magazine, he hasn’t made it known.

I feared this team meeting, the first one with him back and sitting at the helm with Myles. He looks fresher and no longer sporting the alcohol sweats and beard, but something is still missing. He’d gotten his hair cut and it’s hardly any different, but it’s not that. His suits are perhaps a little more wrinkled, but that’s not the last puzzle piece, either. I knew what it was, but I didn’t want to say it. No, not after I saw the way he smiled at his new intern, Frankie, she called herself. Francine something or other, it is. Beats me. I’m sure she probably had a name for each of her boobs as well, seeing as how they could probably be seen from space. I watched her admire him too, but I doubted she saw the circles under his eyes, or the way his lips looked like they’d never smile again. I was almost positive she couldn’t see the way his suits hung a little looser on him, or how he rubbed the naked skin of his left hand’s middle finger, missing something.

I wondered whether or not to linger once everybody was dismissed, but even if I had wanted to, how could I? She followed him like a puppy. I hope I had never done that, or that somebody would have put me out of my impending doom- I mean misery, if I had been. He walked out of sight, and somehow, all I could think about is how the back of his head is still just as cute, and so is his bum.

Several coffee refills and trips to the loo commenced until I found myself pulled to his doorway, pretending to be walking to Gwen or Rory’s office. God forbid, I ever give that asshole the time of day, I’d never hear the end of it. For the first time, Ms. Boobs is missing in action, and I never thought I could be more grateful for somebody’s absence. Last week only seemed to argue with that, now that I think of it, and how something inside of me warmed every time I saw him in the hallways. It sparks until a fire ignites when I catch sight of his backside facing me until it turns around, and at last, I’m caught.

Defeat covers his features and the surprise inches away, leading him to look down at his messy desk. “Hi,” I say, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my slacks, still wishing they made fleece lined ones.

“Hey,” he returns in a squeak that shrinks in comparison to his beautiful voice.

“It’s today, isn’t it? Your gran’s surgery . . the hip?” I ask, taking one step forward, and then it’s two.

“Ya,” he hums in reply, sorting through what appears to be an overflowing stack of mail that’s been forgotten since his trip.

“How’d it go?”

“She’s still in. I keep waitin’ t’ hear sumthin’ but there’s nuthin’,” he answers plainly, tearing certain envelopes in half and others automatically go into the bin for shredding.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure everything will be okay, she’s really healthy and strong, Harry.”

“I dunno, Becks, ‘m so worried. It shouldn’t take this long,” he sighs, bringing a hand to his face while his head goes back and forth. It’s only a moment until I hear the hiccuping of his breath and the sound of tears shed against skin.

Against better judgement, or any for that matter, he’s in my arms in seconds. My hands are running courses up and down his back, even daring a go at his hair now and then, whilst he sheds sadness into my neck.

“Everything will be okay, Harry,” I insist, and which he only shakes his head at. “It will be, you just have to believe it. I have a feeling.”

“How can ya say that? How ‘m I s’posed t’ believe that, Becks?” he whimpers, pulling away and staring at me bleary eyed with tears coating his cheeks. “I dunno that there’ll ever be a time ‘gain where things are okay,” he finishes, spinning on his heel and escaping down the hallway, leaving me high and dry. I only wish that my eyes could claim that truth, as well, but that’d be a lie.

It smelled of metal and disinfectant around me, but I tried to drown it out with the images I scroll through. The electronic beeping wormed its way into my thoughts, but I welcomed the respite from the chaos toiling around in there. Images of friends and casual strangers litter my Instagram feed and instead of looking away when the dinging stops, I continue to look, distracting myself. That in itself seems to be my job for the last few weeks, owned by the number one job of not thinking about it. It’s followed by another important task of not crying in public, and saving it for at home despite the place owning that name changing recently. I’ve failed at all of those jobs the second I think about the person who I called my home for so long now, and can’t any longer.

The smell is what gets me at first, and immediately, the pictures are forgotten. I know before I look up that the facade is broken. Then, everything is shattered within a few moments, no matter how good I’ve gotten at ignoring him, or pushing down the feelings when I see him across the table at a team meeting. I’ve gotten good at the pretending part, but the only person I’ve never been able to do that around is the very one who accompanies me on the elevator now. My bad luck echoes when I finally chance a glance and I leave it for too long, because then he looks up and meets my eyes.

Harry. My home . . but he’s not that any longer.

“Hi,” he risks with a gentle curve of his lips, and a gentleness in his eyes that he once held in his hands for me too. A softness that never left him once I worked my way into his heart all of those years ago, it’s one that I still can’t allow myself to get rid of.

“Hi,” I return curtly, tearing my eyes away from him, and his new suit. An ensemble a shade of mauve with a raven black button up underneath. Spiffy, indeed. It feels like a mini marathon to look away from that suit, and how it hugs him in all of the right places. The biceps, the chest, opens at his widely attractive throat, reminds me of the base that we never hit when my eyes venture too low, and his bum. No, I can’t see it from my view right now, but I’d made sure to have seen it earlier today.

“‘s good timin’, I was wonderin’ if we could talk,” he ventures out on a limb to say, and my eyes are rolling before he gets to finish.

“I don’t want to talk, Harry.”

“Becks, please, jus’ lemme finish, bug,” he says, and I wonder how he can be so gutsy to use those two coveted names in one sentence. Despite his bravery, the gesture does its job, and I gulp against the longing that climbs up my throat.

“No, you don’t get to. You haven’t earned that just yet.”

“What d’I have t’ do, Becks?” Harry questions in a sigh, a hand dragging through his hair. It falls with an impatient slap to his thigh.

“I dunno, Harry, maybe you shouldn’t have become a neglectful drunk in the first place,” I retort, stepping forward to stab the button of the closest floor, so I don’t have to do this.

“How many times d’I hafta say ‘m sorry? I could say it a hundred times and ‘s not gonna be enough, ‘s it?”

“No, it won’t,” I answer, continually hitting the button.

“Stop pushin’ it, yer gonna break it or sumthin,’” he warns, and just like he said, the contraption lurches to a stop. “Now, look what ya did.”

“I didn’t break the bloody elevator, Harry.”

“Sure, ya didn’t,” he sighs and even in the near dark, I know that he’s biting at his lip beside me.

Huffing, I step back until my back hits the wall, watching him in the soft glow of the emergency lights. Slowly, that night from Halloween comes back to me. I watch how he pulls his phone out and dials a number and talks to some invisible person, just like the time before. His fingers card through his hair similarly, and his lips utter sighs and curses like then too.

“‘s tha snowstorm, ‘s shut off tha power in tha entire firm,” he announces after saying goodbye and pulling his phone away from his ear. “They’ll get t’ us but it might be a while.”

“Doesn’t the firm or at least the elevator have a backup or something?”

“I dunno, ‘m tha lawyer, Becks, not a bloody mechanic. I don’t deal with that shit,” he mutters with a shake of his head, typing away on his phone.

Groaning loudly, I slide down the sleek metal wall of the elevator until my bum meets the cold and dirty floor, just like before.

“I guess we’re stuck with each other for a while then, it’s your dream come true,” I mumble while folding my arms across my chest. He flits his eyes over to me only to roll them before looking away. “Oh, so you don’t want to talk to me now?”

“No, ‘d rather not, if yer not gonna try and listen t’ me,” he admits sadly, stepping back and leaning against the wall. A similar sound leaves my lips and I look down at my lap until my eyes habitually return to him. I finally let myself look at him for the first time in, what, a month? It seems like a lifetime ago that I could at last look at him for however long I wanted without it being weird or him saying something. Without my hidden feelings being betrayed. “There’s mo’ t’ do than jus’ stare at me, y’know.”

“Sorry,” I whisper, looking to my lap and turning a ring around my finger absentmindedly.

“Ya still wear it?”

My eyes dance to him without a decision to do so, like they so often did, and my nod is immediate as well. His smile seems rather instantaneous too, appearing before my eyes as I watch him. His ring on my hand had caught my eye, one of his I’d stolen at the before everything went to shit and slid it on my thumb. It’s the only finger it’d fit on, and I’d almost forgotten it was there, but it’d become a nervous habit of mine as of recent, although hypocritical in the slightest.

“I thought you’d taken it off, hadn’t seen ya wear it.”

“It felt too weird not wearing it,” I reveal softly, embarrassment fighting for a spot in my voice, but I’m not sure if that’s how it could be described.

“I guess that says sumtin’, or ‘least I hope it does,” Harry says, looking to his feet with a sad laugh that’s short, like a staccato. This all feels like one, a standalone chapter. Perhaps an episode from The Twilight Zone, almost.

“You were my best friend, Harry, that’s not something you just forget,” I say quietly, unsure of if he hears me, but his nod tells me so. If that hadn’t, the emotion that swells in his face does it for me.

“Then why did you?” he asks, meeting my eyes and I find the pain in my heart matched in the greens. A shade I’ve missed so immensely, and that grows hazy in moments. “Why’d you forget about me?”

“You really hurt me, Harry. I never thought you could hurt me so much.”

His sniffling encourages the tears that flow from my eyes to join his just as the sound of his footsteps initiates him sitting down beside me. At first, it feels too close and too dangerous, but then I look at the gap that separates us. It’s been larger and unbreakable before, but somehow, this feels exponential too. It somehow had returned after its departure when I had pressed my lips to his, because after that, neither of us let it live again, and we always took the step that wasn’t there.

“So, what do I say if I can’t say sorry?” he says in a voice choked with pain, propping his arms on his bent knees out of the corner of my eye, holding his wrist with a circle of fingers.

“I dunno,” I answer tearfully, wiping below my waterline, wishing I had the answers so that all of this could stop. “I wish I knew, but I don’t. If I knew I’d tell you, because then this all could be over, and I could stop missing you so fucking much every literal second. Then I could stop getting jealous of that booby intern who won’t stop throwing herself at you. I tried not to be jealous by not caring, but I couldn’t lie to myself, because I do care and I always will, Harry. I’ll always miss you . . in bed next to me with your arms always waiting for me, your face at our table at Pedro’s on Tuesdays waiting there for me, every day after work waiting on my sofa until I’m ready to go home with you . . ,” I trail off in a sob, thoughts bubbling inside of my lips but they become too hard to speak.

“‘m still waitin’, Becks, ‘ve never stopped since that day I first met you,” he says in a voice softer than marshmallows and sweeter than honey. “‘ll always be waitin’ fer you.” Since that first day I had met him, you never could’ve made me believe that looking into his face I’d see a mirror, but I believe it more today than I ever thought I could. Because I am, in the way the tears silently fall down his cheeks, the openness of his eyes that beg for me, and the way that mine beg for him too.

“‘s it true ya put in yer two weeks?” Quickly, I shrink and I avoid, ignoring everything altogether, but if I’ve learned one thing through this all is that I can’t do that as badly as I wish I could. “‘m still yer boss, Becks, sumthin’ like that can’t get away from me. I saw tha letter on My’s desk one day and when he saw me readin’ it, he told me . . Becks, please don’t leave. Yer learnin’ so much and we all love you here. Yer doin’ so well, and there’s so much I want t’ teach you. Turner and Jones ‘s . . . ‘s not yer home, love, this ‘s yer home.”

“I thought you were my home once and I was wrong,” I don’t know why I say it, but I do, and immediately I regret it. Without seeing him, I know that he wishes I hadn’t said it too, by the intake of air and the way he turns away from me.

“Y’know, I think ‘ll get sick o’ fightin’ fer you, but I don’t. I get tired, but I don’t get sick o’ it. I never wanna stop. I wanna tell our kids one day that I never stopped fightin’ fer you, and sometimes I think it’ll happen. But, I dunno- When I saw you kiss that bloke, I stopped believin’ in it.”

Gulping, my eyes find him immediately and the tears ricochet throughout my body from his words. The sounds of his crying prick at my ears, but I don’t see them fall down his face, just the way he plays with his lips.

“Harry-.”

“I love you and ‘m sorry. ‘ll never stop showin’ you that fer tha rest o’ me life, what more do I hafta do?” he begs, turning to face me. My heart squeezes inside of my chest at the mere sight, and my lips press themselves together. “But if ya- if ya tell me that . . yer happy with him, then ‘ll stop. I want yer happiness mo’ than mine,” he croaks, words stolen from him at times as mine are drowned in salt water.

Whimpering, the sight of my hands wringing each other appears in front of me, and then his pained sigh meets my ears. Hiccups rack my chest and I stop hiding the crying, listening to it echo off of the walls that remain still around us.

“His name’s Ben-.”

“I know who he ‘s,” he says gingerly, but with disdain that tries to push me back, and make me stop. “‘ve argued cases against him . . both lost and won.”

“I met him during my clinicals there, he-.”

“I don’t wanna hear ‘bout him, Becks, I-I can’t,” Harry announces firmly, standing to his feet and beginning to walk in circles.

“I ended things with him last week, not that there was much to end . . that same day you must have seen us kiss outside the courts . . after he shoved me to the floor that night. And he wasn’t you, nobody else could ever be you.”

“What?!” he nearly explodes, the words ringing loudly in my ears again and again as they resound off of the walls. “Oh, that bloke’s not gonna know what hit him when I get my fookin’ hands on him.”

“Harry-.”

“Tell me that you don’t want me t’ beat tha shit outta him, Becks,” Harry insists, but with my eyes not looking at him, I remain silent. “That’s what I thought . . Bloody minute this lift starts workin’ ‘gain, ‘m gonna make him regret ever touchin’ you.”

Nodding, I brush the back of my hand against my nose and feel a sob overcome me. My shoulders fall and I pull my knees into my chest, soon feeling the tears soak through my slacks.

“Aw, honeybug,” he sighs pitifully, and at last, one of my dreams comes true when I feel him surround me with his warmth. Him. “I had no idea you’ve been dealin’ with that, ‘m so fookin’ sorry, Becks. ‘m so sorry you’ve had so much shit t’ deal with, ya don’t deserve any o’ this. He’s a fookin’ sorry excuse fer a man fer doin’ that t’ you and trust me ‘m gonna make him sorry. He’s a right wanker, and he only ever won one case against me, anyways. Damn idiot, he ‘s.”

Swallowing dryly, I meet his eyes and receive anything but that. The green is drowned in tears nearly, and I know that my blue is, too.

“Reckon ‘m not much betta than him, afta all,” Harry confesses with a fight played in his eyes.

“No, you’re nothing like him, Harry,” I coo, reaching out a hand to cradle his cheek, thumb swiping at tears.

“Yer right, ‘m much worse than him fer how I treated you.”

“What? Harry, no, you’re not. I know you’d never lay a hand on me,” I confess in a voice that cracks, breaths laden with unsaid words, and so many that I don’t know how to say. Nodding, his eyes leave mine and his arms prematurely do too, and I only feel worse. “Talk.”

“What?” he whispers, quirking a brow at the floor.

“Talk, Harry . . like you had wanted to . . to me,” I explain, my hand lingering on my knee, so close to his. Bravely, it finds the courage and reaches out towards him, finding the warmth soon after between his fingers.

“‘ve rehearsed it so many bloody times in me head, but now, I actually get t’ talk t’ you and I can’t rememba,” he admits softly with shame painting his voice, and an out of place smile. “All I know . . ‘s that I miss you and it scares me how much I can miss you sittin’ at a meetin’ with you across tha table. I miss you like you’ve gone . . but inna way, you have. I miss you in so many ways, walkin’ in tha door at home t’ you, findin’ you’d claimed me sofa again fer anotha day workin’ t’getha, or even that you’d be usin’ one o’ me favourite coffee mugs or jumpers. I miss those small things, and then, I even miss wakin’ up next t’ you, talkin’ t’ you ‘bout songs, ‘bout art, or gettin’ yer advice on a recipe or an argument inna case. ‘d missed you like mad befo’, but nuthin’ compares t’ this. Didn’t know I could miss somebody so much that ‘m always sore from it, that I ache when I see you and can’t touch you or talk t’ you. I lost it when I saw him kiss you, I went and vomited in tha car park befo’ goin’ home t’ cry in bed. Our bed. I wanted a drink and thought ‘bout it . . I even had one and I felt worse, knowin’ that it only made it mo’ likely ‘d never get ya back then. Thought seein’ that I.T. intern flirt with you in tha copier room hurt, but god, that was nuthin.’”

“You try seeing that intern who dresses like a hooker be all over you,” I tut, refamiliarizing myself with the grooves and peaks on his rings.

“Are ya quite finished?” he almost giggles and I nod with a fleeting smile.

“It hurt not seein’ you reject him and then ‘course My’ had t’ guilt me ‘bout it, and -.”

“Okay, that’s enough talking,” I announce inside of my head with a shake of it, my lips parting to utter the same declaration. But I’m interrupted almost immediately, and so is Harry by the whirring and movement of the lift starting up again.

“Looks like tha power came back on or sumthin’,” he mumbles, standing to his feet as the lights flick back on.

“Yeah, looks like,” I say under my breath, so many more ready to be spoken but they’re whisked away when the doors part on Seventeen and soon, we’re ambushed with concerned colleagues who mistake our tears for fear. Quickly, so much was forgotten, but what hurt was how easily we both did it too.

The notes of cinnamon and nutmeg cling to my tongue, accompanied by the sweetness of the last traces of whipped cream. With a sigh, I set down the mug and hear its emptiness fill my ears. I continue to dance my eyes across the page, soaking up the words that I try to drown myself in. The dinging of the bell atop the door interrupts the words echoing in my mind, as do the clap of footsteps entering the cafe amongst the soft Christmas music. Without fail, they attempt to weed their way into my heart, making me think that they’re his, but everything sounds like him and feels like him as of late.

Pushing it away, I shake my head free of the nagging thoughts and start the sentence over. At the sound of a voice that steps into my mind, the words are forgotten, and no rereading them could ever bring them back to me.

“Since when d’ya read ol’ granny romance books?”

Tearing my eyes away from the imaginative words, I find the pair of green eyes that I’ve been avoiding and longing within all of the same breaths.

“I see yer mug ‘s empty. Can I buy you anotha?” he murmurs with his charming smile that finds its old way back to me, and into my heart. Just like all of those times before.

“I uh, was actually just leaving,” I mutter, the book already having closed when my hands left it in shock. Picking it up, I drape my purse over my shoulder and walk away from him. No matter if it doesn’t take the cake for how much it hurts to do so, the pain still stings in my mind and every inch of my limbs.

“Becks, wait!” he calls after me, the clanging of the bell loud and obnoxious in my ears. The winter cold shocks my warmed skin when I step back into it. “I wanna talk t’ you ‘bout sumthin’, yer two week-.”

“I don’t want to,” I retort, rounding a corner and searching for the familiar sight of my car parked on the street. I’m feeling cold rather than hot in finding it before his always gentle hands settle on my shoulders. He turns me around to face him, once again finding those piercing greens that root me to the spot.

“I thought we could still be friends, Becks. Y-Yer me best friend, I can’t lose you as a friend too, bug. Please,” he pleas, but I’m spinning around before the last of his syllables grace my ears.

My head shakes from side to side, willing my eyes to dry up and forget their recent best friend that drowns my sights in a haze. My lips sing with pain from my teeth sinking into them as my face collapses from the debilitating weight of misery.

“I-I can’t. We can’t, you know that, Harry.”

“Why not, Becks?” he begs, the cool feeling of his rings welcomed by my flushed skin.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you when you know why,” I spit back, sure that three seconds ago he had already heard the tears in my voice. The multitudes of words shared between our lips over the last ten months has only led me to open myself to him further, and I still can’t figure out how to close my book from him reading.

“I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Becks.”

“It only took you a month, Harry?!” I exclaim, unsure of whether I’m making a statement or posing a question.

“Care t’ clue me in what yer talkin’ ‘bout, ‘cuz I still dunno?” he replies with an exasperated sigh. I rip my wrist from his gentle grasp, the sooner the better because I knew another second longer and I’d let it live there. If I stand here another second longer, I may let myself float back to him.

“You’re already over me and with somebody new after only a month, huh?” I respond curtly, turning around slowly to face him as the first hot tear cascades down my cheek.

“Becks,” he sighs, the emotion carried in his voice spreading across his unshaven face. A whimper escapes my lips as the sob trembles throughout my chest, my lips returning to their permanent frown. My heart shudders at his expression and the confirmation I hear in it, making my head shake quickly from side to side. “I still dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, love. ‘m not datin’ anyone, y’know tha only person I wanna be with ‘s you. N’body else in tha entire world I wanna date and love fer tha rest o’ me life . . Where ‘s this comin’ from, bug?”

“Wait, what?” I exhale, blinking away the tears that I’m afraid to believe hold lies and forgotten fears.

“‘m not with anybody new, Becks. I dunno what people are sayin’, but ‘m not. You know tha only person I wanna be with ‘s you,” he repeats with emphasis, stepping forward and pulling my hands into his. “What’s goin’ on, bug?”

“I don’t know,” I exhale shakily, leaning into his hand that cups my cheek, wiping away the wetness coating my skin. “People at the firm were saying they overheard you talking about some girl you were gonna ask out and were trying to win over.”

“Oh that,” he snickers, the dimples hinting at his cheeks when I dare a look. No matter how hard I’d ever try, the high pitched song that flows from his lips could never stop being my favorite, and my ears welcome it with a familiar warmth. “That was ‘bout you, bug. I was bouncin’ ideas off o’ sumbody ‘bout takin’ you onn’a date. Well, it was actually havin’ you ova t’ mine fer dinna and watchin’ FRIENDS, jus’ like tha old times. Reckon Rore misheard and his big mouth spewed it t’ ev’rybody. That fookin’ git, I swear t’ God, he’s a bloody bastard sumtimes.”

“Yeah, it was him, now that I think of it,” I admit quietly, peering down at our joined hands and our mingling rings, just like all of the times before.

“‘m gonna fookin’ knock him out one o’ these times, I swear t’ it. He’s been such an arse lately, and he thinks I didn’t see it, but I did see him flirtin’ with you tha otha day.”

“It’s fine, Harry.”

“No, ‘s not, Becks. You put yer bloody two weeks in, and yer last day ‘s t’morro’,” Harry sighs heavily, bringing my eyes back to his at last, and ever so briefly. The purple gemstone ring that I bought him as a late Valentine’s present grows blurry before my eyes, and only worsens when I see that he never took it off. My wrist feels all the more bare without the multicolored purple gemstone bracelet he gifted me after my accident, and that’s sat on my nightstand at Skye’s for weeks now.

I’m issing that coffee right about now with the state of my throat. Perhaps it would push down all of the words that I have been aching to say for days and weeks now.

“Please stay, bug. Not even jus’ fo’ me, but I don’t wantcha t’ lose a good job. Yer doin’ so well and e’rybody at tha firm loves you, babe . . ‘specially me. I know I fooked up real bad, but I promise it won’t happen again if ya gimme another chance-,” Harry begins in a plea, the same emotions that bubble inside of me echo within his voice. When I steal a glance at his olive green eyes, I find them swimming in tears, and that’s what pushes me to surround his lips with mine.

His buttery soft curls feel like home between my fingers, and my rickety heart begins to slow at the smell of his sweet-peppery scent. Neither of those compare to the feeling of his lips upon mine for the first time in weeks, and the passion carried behind both of ours. Unspoken words, profuse apologies, and hundreds of ‘I miss you’s are left on the other’s lips. His nose leaves slippery marks against my cheek slick with tears, and I can taste them on his skin as well.

Air trickles back into my burning lungs when I gasp for air below him, stealing whispery kisses from his sweet lips now and then.

“Was that a random kiss or a ‘get back togetha’ kiss?” he rasps against my lips, finalizing his words with one last peck to my mouth.

“A ‘get back together’ k-kiss,” I stutter with a soft titter, feeling it fill me with warmth at the sight of his dimples returning to his cheeks from their few week absence. “I missed you . . even r-right now,” I sob, the breath leaving my lungs when my chest collides with his after I dive into his arms. A surprised noise sputters from his mouth but his arms coming around me is instantaneous, and so is the comfort I feel in them.

“Missed you mo’, bug,” he whispers into my hair, laying kisses on every inch of my head that he can find while I laugh at our inside joke. “Fook, ‘m so sorry fer how I treated ya and fer gettin’ drunk all o’ tha time ‘cuz o’ that stupid case. I meant what I said when I came back from me trip - I haven’t had a drop since that night we broke up, and I won’t fer as long as you want me t’. ‘ll do anythin’ ya want, we’ll do therapy or counselin’- jus’ want us t’ be okay, and fer you t’ let me love you ‘gain. There’s n’body else in this entire world that I wanna be spend me life with, or have babies with one day.”

“Harry,” I chuckle against his neck, my forever favourite hiding place, whether happy or sad. “We’ve been back together for two seconds, chill on the baby talk.”

“No, I mean it. I want ya t’ have me babies one day, nuthin’ eva changed ‘bout that, and nuthin’ eva will. Think I love ya mo’ now, Becks, so much mo’,” Harry sighs, and with his confession I can feel his body relax against mine. It’s quite contagious, really.

“I reckon I still want you to be the father of mine . . teach them how to play footie, how to play guitar, and how to play a shit game of Scrabble.”

“Hey now!” Harry exclaims, the words rumbling through his chest with his deep chuckle. When I pull away from him to peer into his glassy, green eyes, his lips quiet. The laugh disappears from them, but shouts of happiness and relief fill my eyes, and I think mine feel rather similar to his. “Bloody hell, if they’re as stubborn as you, we’re in fer some trouble.”

“Like you’re any better,” I giggle, but it’s stolen away by his lips, and I couldn’t be more thankful.

“This mean you’ll be me mentee ‘gain, and forget ‘bout that crazy talk o’ quittin’ tha firm?” he poses to me, dragging a few fingers through my hair, sending jolts of comfort through my limbs. “Please, Becks?”

“Of course, Harry. There’s no other lawyer I’d want to learn from- don’t tell Rose that, because she’s been amazing, but she’s just not you. She’s not my favourite teacher or my best friend . . and I’ve really missed them,” I reveal softly, and sadly, the tears adorning my words. The both of them fall onto the pad of his thumb that nudges at my bottom lip affectionately.

“‘ve missed me favourite lawyer as well, Becks. God, so fookin’ much. I can’t lose me best friend, not again,” he whimpers, the last word breaking under the weight of his tears that match mine.

“And please, for the love of God, get rid of that intern before I do,” I groan, and a snicker springs from his angelic lips. “Because if I see her flirt with you one more fucking time, I will puke . . on her.”

“Don’t worry, ‘ve been lookin’ fer a good reason t’ get rid o’ her, so this ‘s perfect, bug,” he coos happily, pulling me back into his arms where I’ve been craving to return for oh, so very long. “Hope y’know I still want ‘bout five kids.”

“Shut up, Harry,” I titter, my arms tightening around his middle as I find the sweet spot in the crook of his neck.

“Five babies, Becks, and all with you, honeybug. Li’l girls that look like you and li’l boys that look like me, all with yer gorgeous blue eyes. They’ll have tha best mum eva, they will,” my happy hum accompanies his, almost accentuates it as I toy with the cross sat at the junction of his throat and his shoulders. “Can’t say sorry enough, ‘m afraid, so ‘ll spend tha rest o’ me life sayin’ it t’ you. Promise you that.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” I almost joke, and when I hear his songlike laugh, I at last let out the breath that I had been holding for far too long.

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rorysfm · 4 years

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hllo demons n nerds ! i’m sage, coming 2 u live frm the est gutters! i am... v excited to be here but i am literally the worst at intros so i’m jus gonna diiiiive right into rory below !

(ISABELLA JONES, CISFEMALE) - Have you seen AURORA LEBLANC? RORY is in HER SOPHOMORE year. The DANCE AND SOCIOLOGY MAJOR is 19 years old & is a LIBRA. People say SHE is LIVELY, MAGNETIC, IMPULSIVE and UNRELIABLE. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that HER PARENTS ARE COVERING UP THAT SHE WAS KICKED OUT OF YALE FOR PLAGIARISM AND NO OTHER IVY WOULD ACCEPT HER, SO THEY BOUGHT HER WAY INTO YATES

ok, so.. rory is a brand new muse of mine so.. pls bare w me while i sort her out. if u want to skip the mess below & just vibe check her.. here’s her pinterest!

BACKGROUND

born and raised in greenwood, south carolina to oliver and lauren leblanc. her parents were high school sweethearts who were voted most likely to get married and have a dozen kids running around

they stopped at 2 because they jus... their kids were a handful but rory will tell you they stopped after her bc they hit perfection :~)

her mom’s family teetered between lower-middle class, her mom entering a bunch of pageants to bring in some extra cash for them.

her dad’s side on the other hand, is where all the connections are baby!!

the leblancs come from a long long line of being wrapped up in the political world. governors, members of the state senate, mayors, advisers... you name it - a leblanc has had that position.

her dad’s goals were no different than the rest of his family’s ... some would say even bigger bc he wants to do what no other leblanc was able to do, which is... run for president. (yes hello.. rory as the future first daughter?)

growing up her parents were honestly... not the best. like above all else they put oliver’s career above their kids and it wasn’t not being there for an important recital, or a parent-teacher night; it was being there for all the wrong reasons.

every little thing they did was calculating to make the leblancs look like the perfect family. hugs and words of encouragement loud enough to filter through the room aimed at their darling children only for them to turn cold and criticise every single thing they did wrong as soon as they got into the car. it was pretty clear that oliver and lauren were a team, and their kids were just props.

when rory was 12, lauren started making monthly appointments at the hair salon to dye rory’s hair blonde... she had a standing appointment every tenth of the month to have her roots touched up

rory’s mom jus rly... pushed rory on her looks and enrolled her in pageants, debutante balls, anything that showed off rory’s looks... lauren pushed her towards it.

rory and her brother declan stayed in their hometown for school until college bc their parents thought it made them look like more of wholesome family so instead of sending them off to boarding schools in london or new york, they opted for private schools in south carolina

both of them were of course pushed into going to well renowned schools, their grandfather had pushed them into going to yates since he, himself had been part of calloway and they were practically legacies and while declan followed thru with it... rory watched the cinderella story one too many times and like hilary duff..... sis went to princeton for political science!!!

only it ended up in flames bc tbh she was like a bull in a china shop, the freedom of not having her parents around to judge every single thing she did? or pushing her into doing things she hated? she od’d on FREEDOM. rory rly just did her own thing, kinda spiralled out of control.. never hard drugs but lots of drinking and partying.

she ended up getting put on probation and was flunking nearly every course. the pressure really got to her (like she knew her parents would get involved if you got kicked out or if she failed all her courses) so she ended up plagiarising an essay ... but gueSS what!! she was caught and her parents got involved anyways.

her parents ended up being able to keep things ... quiet by paying off the teacher that had caught her. the dean also agreed to stay mum about it (after accepting a hefty cheque), so nothing ever went of her record, nothing would ever be documented of this mishap.

but... it’s likely people still talk and while rumors can’t be proven, it still stopped rory from getting into yale, harvard and columbia when she tried

finally with her grandfather’s pull and the promise to build yates a new library with the next 5 years... rory was accepted just as declan had graduated.

PRESENT

pulled up to yates in her vintage baby blue mercedes benz convertible from the 60′s

she’s brand new to yates, and switched out of political science.

out of all the activities and hobbies that her parents tried to push her into, dance was the only one she actually enjoyed doing and fell in love with

her parents let her major in it, as long as she did a double major.. so sis took sociology because why not?

spent her summer dancing with the new york ballet company in their production of a midsummer’s night dream.

honestly.. loved it but also was lowkey bummed out she missed out on a proper summer

right before declan had graduated, rory had come up for a campus tour and ended up partying at yates for a weekend

probably got herself into a bit of trouble, and probably made a nice little impression on a few people!

PERSONALITY

honestly.. chaotic good. she’s always been a little more on the wilder side than declan.. a little more carefree and daring and just always needed to be told to behave

in fact has a tattoo that says BEHAVE on her forearm, that she got one night back in princeton.

that said, she’s very good at playing her part in the family

dubbed as the golden girl... bc she is just that kind of girl that has a magnetic pull to her, a smile that could combat the sun and just naturally very charming and genuinely nice?? very good a convincing you without being manipulative about it

does only angel by harry styles play when she walks in the room? possibly.

the kind of girl that you spend weeks thinking about after one (1) conversation

still gets her hair dyed blonde the 10th of every month, bc her mother has convinced her she is just not meant to be a brunette :/

honestly.. she’s insecure abt a lot of things because of her mom :/

has really great posture and etiquette from all those pageant days. also really good at making cranes out of dinner napkins from being bored at functions her parents forced her to go to

would probably throw hands if she caught someone talking badly abt her brother bc she’s protective of him

very much a hopeless romantic, gets heart eyes very easily and likes to chase until it isn’t fun anymore and falls in love with multiple people a day.

tragically likes country music :/

promised her brother she wld.. try to be good and stay out of trouble but i reckon.... she won’t plagiarize an essay ever again but everything else? the partying? fair game.

CONNECTIONS

tbh i will take anything yall will give me... i am @ ur service serving rory on a silver platter to u

i’m also big on chemistry so we can just see where things go as well since rory is new to yates this could be fun!!

a few people she met while she was visiting last year.. someone she clicked with and they stayed in touch, maybe someone she flirted with but doesn’t remember then (even tho she’ll pretend she does!), someone she hooked up with perhaps? someone she spent all night talking to?

a brother’s friend she’s met a couple times?

good influence/bad influence

family friends

family rivals

cousins could be fun

a roommate

a tutor?

tinder matches? hook ups, flirtationship .. anything angsty!!

friends!! pleathe i will take them all.. a girl squad would also be quite fun!

ok.. that’s all tht my lil brain can come up with.. im sorry this is so long and such a mess but hmu if you’d like to plot!!

#yatesintro #omg whew chile.. this got so long #im so sorry #4 this and 4 this mess

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callioope · 4 years

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brynnmclean replied to your post “unexpectedly being asked to join a 3.5 campaign right now where most...”

oh, I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on 3.5e vs. 5e! I've only played 5e, but heard people rave about 3.5???????

Okay, before I answer this I should clarify: I only played 3.5e for about 75 minutes tonight. I did learn to play D&D using 3rd edition, and I might? have played 3.5e in college, but I really don’t remember. 3.5e came out in the midst of when I was playing, but I think most of the people I played with knew 3rd edition best, so we stuck with that. (But then to also caveat that, I’m chatting with one of my HS friends that I still play with, and he said we really ignored a lot of the 3rd edition rules back then because there were so many... so we really didn’t even play it right)

ANYWAYS.

I started playing 5e several years ago and I’ve honestly never looked back. I adore it. It feels so much more streamlined. It’s simple and straightforward, which allows for more focus on roleplay and less focus on math. And my character sheet is easier to read. (technically that could come down to the design of the character sheet, but I think there’s just fewer equations all over the place in 5e, which helps it look cleaner)

I think, all in all, that 3.5 felt more limiting. Allegedly, the people I were playing with said it meant that you could also do more with it, that there were more options or whatever, but I think that might just be because it’s been around longer. And personally I’m not interested in fiddling and min/maxing my stats, I just want to play! If my character isn’t perfect, great. I’d love to fail some skill checks and face the consequences, especially if they’re gonna be hilarious or dramatic and make the story more interesting.

When I first started playing 5e, I was bummed about the fewer skill sets, but now that I’ve been playing it awhile, I think the restructuring of those makes more sense. In 3/3.5, there are a lot of very esoteric skill sets, which you’ll either absolutely need or never use, and it comes down to what the DM is doing. A bit of a gamble when you have to allocate skill points and you might be wasting them. For example, there are Appraise, Escape Artist, Gather Information, like 5 different versions of the Knowledge skill, like Knowledge (Religion), Knowledge (History), etc.

Whereas in 5e, the skills are fewer/broad enough that you can probably figure out which one to use given whatever you’re trying to do and you’re less likely to pick a skill that your DM ends up totally ignoring.

Then there’s like, Attack Bonuses. In 5e, you just have your proficiency bonus, but in 3/3.5, you’ll have bonuses for every little thing, attack, each save, skill points, etc, that all go up at different rates.

Other things I noticed specifically about tonight is that: the spell “Bless” is not as good, and in 3.5, you have to allocate every spell slot. So: if you get 5 spells at level 1, you need to say you’re taking 3 Bless, 1 Shield of Faith, 1 Light of Lunia, rather than just picking your list of spells and using however many you want of each until you max out your spell slots. [Edited to Add: when I commented that “bless” wasn’t as good, my DM said something about how it really is better bc it stacks with other things as the day goes on or something, I didn’t understand what he meant and it just sounded too tedious to me.]

That’s about my limit with what happened tonight -- we didn’t play long, so not a lot came up.

But the rest of the people in this campaign have been playing for 35 weeks, and I play with some of them in my Tomb of Annihilation campaign and my Saltmarsh campaign, and all I ever hear are stories of how bad things go for them. They only heal 1 HP per long rest. They’re level 4 and two characters have died already. It seems like it’s much harder to do anything or get anything done. Seems like they’re kinda excited to be done with 3.5 and get back to playing 5e.

That’s just my two cents. In the end it probably comes down to what you’re used to and the kind of game you want to play.

#brynnmclean #i'm not sure i'm really the best person to ask #but personally i feel like 5e is easier to get into #and i felt overwhelmed tonight #and don't really want to have to learn two different rule sets #that's the other thing #the players who do both are constantly getting mixed up now #dungeons and dragons #liz replies #liz plays dungeons and dragons

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continent-of-wild-endeavor · 4 years

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Farm log 4/1/20

Our baby chickens and turkeys are two weeks old today. Grow babies grow!

The turkeys have been sprouting WINGS real fast, though they can’t do much with them yet, and have figured out the roosting bar. They would like to EXPLORE, but they are still too little, so we continue to confine them, and they spend a lot of time looking wistfully out the window.

The chicks are learning about roosting as well. They mostly still sleep together on the ground under their heat lamp, on warm nights and cool ones, but during the day I’ll often find them on the edges of the wooden box, or surprisingly high up on the ladder. They can even fly a little! They are very cheepy all the time, and not particularly happy about me coming around.

Both types of birds got a chunk of sod the other day, to explore and play with and eat bits of grass. I think they enjoyed them; I’ll replace with fresh soon.

Sadly, we lost another chick yesterday/the night before. One of the brown leghorns. I don’t know why, just that I found her splayed and dead in the morning, in the middle of the sleeping area, though nothing was visibly wrong with her. She’ll go to our snake guy, so this isn’t entirely a waste, but I’m still bummed about it. Up until now we’d only lost the one that we had to put down the first day (maybe shipping trauma - 50 birds in a small box is a lot - or deformity, we’re not sure, but his legs didn’t work right and he was struggling to breathe evenly) so I thought we were doing well, and the older they get the sturdier they are, so I was surprised to lose one for no known reason on day 14. Still, we have more than we ordered, as we started with about 54, so we’re still ahead on actual future birds. See, if you order more than a few birds, they chuck a couple extra in the box at the hatchery, to cover expected losses. So we are still doing a little better than the expected loss, or so I tell myself. I am making a point to check on them a little more often - I’m home anyway, after all - to see if I can spot any problems as they arise.

Also in new life: 5 baby bunnies born two days ago! From my girl Poppy. She’s reliable and a good mother, even if she doesn’t have the biggest litters. She’ll have one more before taking a summer break. Blossom is due any day, /if/ she’s pregnant. I failed to immediately make a note of whether I actually bred her or not, and promptly forgot, but at least I remembered to write down the “add nest box” reminder for myself afterwards.

There are four buns in the tractor, ready for processing any day, and another litter waiting to take their place. I need to build another tractor! They really enjoy grazing, and though it must slow my growth rates down some, it also saves on storebought feed. And mowing.

I have been noticing a trend of smaller-than-ideal litter sizes lately. Mostly 5 or 6, when I’d like to be seeing 8-10, ideally. Is this inbreeding depression? All my current rabbits are related, more or less closely, but is it enough to cause that, or do I just have a line of small litter size does? I believe this will be helped when I bring in an outside buck for crossbreeding. I may get an AmChin from a local guy, though idk if his rabbits have the stats I really want (growth rate, heat tolerance, litter size, breedback rate) bc he doesn’t seem to track that, really. Or I may keep looking for another source, for a NZ or Cali buck. Not a lot of $ for that these days, but I’ll make it work.

#i should get new pics for y'all #maybe tomorrow #they're still very small but they've grown a lot #poultry2020 #bloomhaven #farm update #farm log #animal death /#livestock #rabbitry2020

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captainimprobable · 4 years

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This photo popped up on my Facebook memories and I nearly lost my gd mind. Everything under the cut is depressing so don’t click if you don’t wanna be bummed out

This is from Mother’s day, May 10th, 2015. At this point I had been breaking down every night for a month, taking Ativan like it was candy, because lower doses stopped working since I took them so often. I dropped out of college during finals week instead of just waiting for the semester to be over because I didn’t know if I could make it through another week. 3 days after this picture was taken, I checked myself into the hospital. It was a planned check in, preemptively done so it wouldn’t come to a place where it would be an emergency. I stayed for about a week, and when I got out I wasn’t cured or anything, but it had been the restart I needed to start working to get better. 2015 was the Year From Hell for my me and my family. (So far, it’s still beating 2020. Like. That many bad things happened in 2015.)

I spent most of my recovery alone, aside from my mother. I had friends, that I loved and who I knew loved me, but when someone is going through something difficult and you don’t know what to say, sometimes you just say nothing at all. Not to mention I kept all this very very quiet. On the outside I looked fine. I’ve been told by many, many therapists that I’m the only patient they’ve ever had who can fool them into thinking things are great even if I’m wildly depressed, and my friends weren’t trained, so. Nobody really knew. I’ve been working my ass off for five years. A year after this picture was taken, I graduated college. By the end of that year I got my first job. It took me a long long time to get to a place where I thought I could actually, maybe be a real person. I was finally planning to start my career, which was going to lead to me moving out. I was finally, FINALLY, after 7 years of trying and failing, going to travel to japan. And then Covid happened. And here I am, five years to the day later, feeling the same things I felt then, completely rewinded, like the past five years just haven’t happened. We’re back, babes!!!!!! We’ve returned to the Shit Zone, no feeling good allowed!!!! We’re back to having to take everything minute by minute, sleeping a lot and popping that Ativan again because I can’t stop crying. I’m fucked, my dudes. Every year I’m so proud of how much progress I’ve made since May 13th, 2015. But right now all I see is the same pattern, the skipping work, the spontaneous sobbing mixed with being Totally Okay Somehow for a few days, and I’m alone again, because quarantine means nobody knows when we’re all gonna see each other again. On top of that, i have nothing to look forward to since cons are cancelled. Cons were basically the only thing I had..which I guess is shitty and lame, but it gave me an outlet, it was a place where I could be super gay and not worry about where I am, I was surrounded by people like me and not here, in my religious town, where nobody is like me. (I am the Queen of the Drama Queens. Wow.) So all I see in front of me is the same thing, nothing, forever. But hey the smores frapp comes out in two weeks!!!! Thank god. I dont know what I would do without the smores frapp. (This is serious. Im not being sarcastic. That shit is GOOD) Posting this is incredibly embarrassing for me because I’m not usually this open when something is wrong, but this picture popped up at an exact moment I was freaking out about something and I just had to do something. So now, on top of everything, I’m severely embarrassed and I feel about three inches tall. Hi up there guys!!!! Things are great down here, I’ve managed to corral a spider and now I have a way of getting around without walking everywhere, so that’s rad. Sorry if you think less of me. Surpriiiiiise Ive been a loser all along!!! I’m used to being vented to but the other way around...doesnt.....make sense??? Like, this feels illegal. Was this too much information? I straight up Do Not Know. Anyway, thanks to the few people who know I’m losing my mind and have helped. Also I’m totally safe yall, that’s not something you need to worry about, I promise. idk wtf this post is for. actually. i might delete it like. soon. bc this feels Wrong and like Im crying for attention and i am a small helpless child. And Im not. But. Ill see. God this is bad if people see this they’re gonna think less of me but Im supposed to be this big advocate for mental illness on facebook, so I wanted to be honest, but I couldn’t get myself to post it on facebook so I’m putting it here and. Idk. Sorry.

#jaytp #HELLO HELLO REMINDER THAT I AM OK AND SAFE #i dont think anyone thought i was cool before this but well #if someone did this will kill that quickly #i am baby

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noctomania · 3 years

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Case #1:

My manager made the choice to have me do 2 full detail tours instead of 1 full & 1 semi. taking 2 full tours lands me behind the schedule i would meet if i did 1 full and 1 semi. I did my tours in the normal allotted time (2 hours each) and got to my post around 4am and waited to be relieved for my final break which would normally be at 5am. In the past he had told me I needed to go on my break at around 5. It was well past 5am probably 10mins so I called my manager to relieve me. He said I was late to my post so i had to wait because supposedly he was still on his break. Mind you they do nothing all night unless someone calls or i find something to concern them with. Further, I was not late to my post. So not only was he denying me my break at the time he had told me to take it he was also claiming that i was late which was factually wrong. it wasn’t but 5mins later that he relieved me so i’m not sure what exactly was the problem with relieving me when i should have been relieved. It felt as though I was being held accountable for his choices.

Case #2

We have a fire panel that occasionally (often) have “nuisance alarms” (mind you i think it’s fucked they allow for there to be anything considered just a nuisance alarm on a panel meant for emergencies but nobody gets it fixed.anyway) Often times “fire group” will come by to check on it and even though we are in lock down from 11-7 we will let them in. Normally the procedure would be i call base let them know fire group is there & then i have like 5 other things i gotta do for this literal 2 min visit. I gotta check their id their virus check make sure to sign them in & that they have a mask. Meanwhile they will show up and start pounding on the door so I’m already feeling rushed and the last thing I want to deal with is them breaking the door by pulling on it.

Because my coworker failed to tell me she was going on break, when i called base there was no response. Our dept usually operates under the protocol that if you hear the radio go off & there is no response, if you can serve the roll then pick up the call. So I was operating under that assumption so that instead of calling more just to get no response i figured well if nobody is responding nobody is listening so i move on to do the rest of my job. Right after fire group leaves my manager calls me to tell me that he watched what happened and to tell me what i did wrong. He admitted that he heard the radio heard there was no response, checked the cams to see nobody was in base & to see what i was doing. He sat there for about 5 mins just watching on the cameras instead of picking up the radio to let me know i had back up. He chose to neglect his responsibility as a “team player” to take the opportunity to chastise me. All I did “wrong” was not make a second call and not walk the guy to the door (which is not what i should do if im assuming im alone bc nobody is watching over me)

Case #3

Normally our last breaks are at around 5am. Because of how our manager has set the schedule up it ends up being a very short time between lunch and our last break so if it’s a schedule like that i will wait until a bit after 5 til i take my last break. Today I last track and at 530 my coworker said she was taking her break and then instead of letting me go to my break she just went to a task we have on odd days which forced me to have to take my break after 6am. I had asked her before she went if i could go to my break and she said no she had to go to the house right then. So I just had no choice but to sit there and not get my break. He called me when i got back to criticize me for taking my break after 6am. (Which mind you is realistically a non-issue that he turns into an issue when he’s bored) I told him what she had told me and he went on his fucking soapbox - he has a bad tendency to be long-winded and it inevitably pisses me off more bc he will draw up strawmen and get exceptionally redundant. So i start off saying ok look this is what coworker told me and asked him for clarification. He told me to tone down. He claimed i was screaming. I was not screaming. I told him do not tone police me. Just because he had a tendency to mumble does not mean i am screaming. You can also turn down the volume on the phone if i talk loud. I project my voice so as to be heard clearly. I was asking for clarification on a statement he supposedly made because my coworker did not seem clear on the direction either. I’m still not confident my manager even knows what he said bc he doesn’t remember jack shit. He even referenced the case #1 & LIED OUTRIGHT ABOUT IT. Claiming that he’s never had an issue with me calling him to relieve me when in fact the ONLY time I ever called him to relieve me he DID have an issue and refused to relieve me until he was ready to.

I’m so fucking sick of this man. He does NOT do his job. He fills out the dispatch log at the top of the night and doesn’t touch it again for the rest of the shift. He ignores alarms. He sleeps (you can literally hear it in his voice when we wake him with the radio or the phone). He delegates everything he can and if he isn’t shirking responsibility he’s micromanaging. He has piss-poor communication skills. The only time he talks to me is to tell me what I’m doing wrong or to do something else. No appreciate, hardly even greets me. When he first came to this place he was like “oh im human first im not your boss im your manager we’re a team imma get yall pizza every month”blah blah blah. All lies. Fucking pandering pos. He’s one of the worst managers i’ve had. There was another scenario that was removed from all this (though it was another case of him not doing his job) where he said and i quote “I just dont want it to land on me”. He will do whatever it takes to not be responsible for his own actions and choices. But the accountability has to fall somewhere so where does it land? The bottom line. Of everyone on our shift I am the lowest paid & most overworked. The only way to get higher pay is to take 40hours out of my life to “train” for a job I already do. Which in part during that training would require me work time outside my shift. Even though I literally never pick up shifts.

I don’t even know what to do anymore bc it’s not like the union can do anything. I’ve complained about him to them before and all they can do is send a message that we need to be treated equally which isn’t done anyway and still nobody cares. I’m exhausted emotionally. I have been working through this pandemic both dealing with assholes who wont wear their masks when im walking to or from work and dealing with my institution trying to impose a fucked up method that is less about safety and more about presentation (tryin to force people to replace their masks with masks that have been sitting out around people who aren’t wearing masks - i responsibly refused to put on the potentially infected mask & keep my own on). The only comfort i get is being home. I’m just tired of being made to feel like i’m doing shit wrong when i know im not. I have a hard time biting my tongue bc this shit keeps building up.

whats more is i would take time off but idk how much time i have available bc they have it only accessible either by asking a manager or through an app one of SEVERAL ive had to download bc of this fucking institution which the password ive since forgotten bc i have like 39752 passwords a this fuckin point. And i dont want to fucking talk to managers any more than absolutely necessary. There is all of one manager i actually trust. there is another that is kinda cool but shes pretty new and i worry shes just trying to appeal to me the way the other manager did with the whole “im human first” bs & she’s buddy with that manager so

anyway i fucking hate that place and those people and wish them all a very merry fuck you hope they get a flat tired or lose their car entirely or stub every single fucking toe twice. Managers are the most useless position in any place ever. Get a real job you bums.

#someone give me a full time job that is during the day plz

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suphoshi · 3 years

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Hi! I know this is totally random and I’ve been a lurker (Love your stories, btw!) for some time and I just remembered you’re a nurse!

Do you mind if I ask you for some advice? I’m going into college next year but I’m kind of in between pre-med (Biology most likely) and going to a nursing program. Is it alright if I ask you why you wanted to be a nurse? and if you ever regretted it?

I’ve grown up knowing I wanted to be a nurse (probably bc my parents have drilled it in me to become one) but had an epiphany a couple of months ago from watching medical dramas that I might actually want to be a surgeon. They’re two different things but I realized I’m someone who likes to take lead and taken interest in the OR. I’m not sure if nursing can give me that but I’m also not sure if I’d be mentally ready for school + residency. I also know for sure I want to have a family in the future and that’s a major wall from going full send into pre-med.

thank you so much!

Omg, I do not mind this kind of question at all!

I wish that I could say that this was my lifelong dream and that I was born and bred for nursing, but that would be an absolute lie lol I am the first nurse in my family actually!

Going into nursing was kind of just a chance thing for me honestly. I went to our community college here in town and just took general courses for 2 years before I had a friend tell me she was going to transfer to the nursing school we have here (it’s pretty small, but it ranks pretty high for pass rates, my graduating class in 2017 and every year after has had a 100% NCLEX pass rate except for 1), and I just kind of jumped on the bandwagon. I felt like everyone around me had goals and knew exactly what they wanted to do and I had 0 clue, so I was just making impulse decisions and running with them. Even throughout my first two semesters of nursing school, I still was not fully set on becoming a nurse. I almost failed out of my first semester (which is so embarrassing to say now bc it was v easy 🥴), and in my second semester my clinical instructor literally hated me bc of how poorly I did my first semester (in smaller colleges, they really thrive on NCLEX pass rates, so they try to weed out anyone they think is week from the jump). She literally told me one day “I have no idea how you are a MedSurg student” because I was unsure about normal ranges for something simple. She also made sure to have students come in and watch me do dressing changes on patients because she knew that I had anxiety doing skills in front of other people and would mess up, and she would also give me patients who were completely incapacitated with peg tubes and trach‘s so that I would have to do more skills that she could berate me for because I was so shaky and nervous. Even up to that point - that’s literally half of the most important classes that you will take in nursing school - I did not know that I wanted to be a nurse. I actually wanted to drop out, but my mom told me that it would look better if I ever decided to go back to just wait and fail out lol, but that didn’t happen. My clinical instructor somehow ended up really loving me towards the end of our semester. She always put me in charge when we would do team nursing, and I would oversee all the other students and their patients. She was def a bitch to me in the beginning, but I think it was because she knew that I had zero experience in being vocal and outspoken and sticking up for myself. It really gave me the kick in the ass I needed to study more so that I would be prepared for her, and in turn, I actually got to understand and sympathize with my patients even more. I also realized that semester how much I love taking care of people. Because she gave me so many patients who were unable to take care of themselves, most of them couldn’t move on their own, I was able to sit and talk with them and hold their hands and listen to them cry or make them laugh. That instructor is the reason I am still a nurse today, even though she really almost broke me lol

I definitely do regret nursing often, but only for short periods of time if that makes sense. All jobs have shitty spots, but nursing is definitely one with some of the shittiest spots. You come in to train wreck assignments that sometimes you’ll feel absolutely incapable of handling, you’ll get hammered with admissions, you’ll have to deal with short staffing and taking on so many patients that you don’t even have time to use the bathroom. I’ve had patients scream at me for things that aren’t my fault, doctors scream at me for the same things. And now, because I’m a travel nurse, I go into hospitals with staff who don’t know me, don’t trust me, they don’t like to help at first because I’m the traveler - I have to adapt and help them, not the other way around. So not only do I have to worry about my patient assignment, I also have to earn the trust of a group of people who don’t know me. The mental exhaustion I go through weekly is almost psychotic lol. I have days at work where the only thing I say from beginning to end is “why tf am I doing this” or “I literally hate my life right now”. I talked about this with my sister this morning though (she went into nursing school after me and now she’s a nurse also); even on the days that I literally just want to walk out, I walk into patients room and become a different person. Like, I want them so badly to know they are safe with me and that I care about making sure they’re okay, and I absolutely love making them smile and laugh. I had a patient the last 4 nights who usually screams all day/night because she is scared and hates being alone in her room. Every night after report, I walked into her room and sat with her for like 10-15 mins at a time to just sit with her and talk about her day and the first time I did, she squeezed my hand really tight and said “why are you the only one who comes back”, and it just absolutely broke my heart. These people are so scared and lonely and they just want someone to keep them safe. So yes, there are times I regret it, but becoming a nurse was also one of the best impulse decisions I have ever made. I have changed a lot of people’s lives just like they have changed mine, people who might remember me but I don’t remember them or even vice versa, and it was the most rewarding thing I have ever done.

If you really want to become a surgeon, do it! I think that would be such an awesome path, especially if your interested and it keeps you engaged in what you want to do. About taking the lead and being in control and that stuff, you’re definitely able to do that as a nurse also. I always tell people how insane it is that I am so different when I’m home vs. at work. At home, I am usually the biggest bum, I’m super lazy, I love to lay around on my days off and have such a hard time motivating myself for anyyyything. But at work, I am very organized and time meticulous, I HATE messy workstations and patient rooms. I am in charge a lot - even as a traveler which isn’t v common bc they want their own staff taking that role - so I do all of the staffing, I help everyone with their admissions, I make sure everyone’s getting breaks, passing meds on time, getting home on time. It doesn’t seem like an extreme leadership role, but you really take responsibility for a floor full of 40 patients while you have 5-6 of your own. Plus, with nursing, you have so many opportunities to specialize, you can be a circulating nurse in the OR (I gave up on that idea v quickly because they have too much responsibility IMO lol they’re rockstars for real), I always loved same-day surgery for some reason because it’s so fast paced - I got to pick up a few days there before when they were short staffed and loved it, and honestly there are a million other specialties/jobs you can choose. If you decide to do nursing, you will learn so much about the kind of person you are under pressure, how you handle stress, if you can adapt to situations with little to no help. If medical school is what you want to do though, go for it! Please don’t forget your nurses though after lol, I have so many surgeons that I love and who trust what we say and listen to us when we call, but there are waaaay too many docs who think they’re above our opinions/they know better. Whatever it is you choose, I hope you fall in love with it, and I really hope you’ll check back no matter how many years later and tell me how you’re doing!! I know this was a centuries long answer, but I couldn’t stop once I started lol

Thank you for asking this!!! Let me know if you have anymore questions I can answer 💘💘 have the best day!!

#tytytytytyty #💕💘💘💕💘

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jejublr · 7 years

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#fanfiction writers’ day appreciation post

ok confession time: It is currently the 22nd where I’m at now and I literally just got home for school and I’m so late to this party so I’M SORRY. I HOPE ALL MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION TOWARDS THE WONDERFUL FANFICTION WRITERS OUT THERE CAN PAY OFF FOR MY TARDY. I LOVE YOU GUYS <3<3

Here is a list of some of my favorite authors out there. I hope you all know that we love your work and you are always appreciated ^^

@mansaeboysbe ok can I just say that I was so honored that you hit me up first??? I’M SUCH A FAN OF YOUR WORK AND YOU CAME AND SUPPORT ME?? I’VE NEVER FELT SO- #starstrucked. I just wanna say that your work has been some that I always look forward to and thank you for always being able to bring a smile to my face whenever I read your works. I personally am unaware of which admin has been answering to all the chats but you’re all such lovely people and I only wish you the best! Thank you so much for all the lovely writings and support!!!

@sunnysidewrites HEY MOM! WHAT YOU SAID ON YOUR APPRECIATION POST JUST WARMS MY HEART??? AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN I NOTICED YOU FIRST?? YOUR WORKS ARE AMAZING!! (Y’all should check her out, yo, her writing’s bomb). Thank you so much for being such a great person and for bringing a smile on this wary face lol. I hope you’ll keep writing because that hybrid!Jihoon fic was just so!! CUTE!! Lots of love!!

@choco-seventeen chocooooo!!! Wow I can’t believe we bonded over motion sickness??? WEIRD. But I don’t get motion sickness riding rollercoasters lol but you’re missing out, dude. Thank you for being so sweet and nice and not weirded out?? Bc literally I was holding it in but you’re so chill about it HAHAHA. I really hope you’ll keep writing! Pls make me cry next time. I hope we can be better friends, too!! Take care!!

@soon-shine HEYYY!!! I LOVE YOU!! Thank you sooooooo mUCH for being the first real blog that followed me??? (u can hear me crying in the background). I AM SUPER HONORED to know you. Thank you so much for the beautiful fanfics you’ve written. I gotta say that Prince Hoshi is my absolute favorite out of all of them. Thank you so much for liking my works and all the smiles you gave me ^^ I hope we can be friends!!

@honeyjihoons AAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!!! I’M SO TOUCHED!!! YOU’RE THE SWEETEST! Thank you so much for all the support up to this point T^T It means sooooo much to me. Thank you for liking my works! It always makes my day reading your kind words in the tag!

@95boysbe HI!! I know you’re on semi-hiatus but I want you to know that I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH. Your Blue Moon series my absolute favorite (ok, all of your Coups works actually) and you need to know usually my pillows don’t get wet like it did reading them. Thank you for bringing so much happiness to me!!

@scenarioswithsvt HIII! Thank you so much for your cute writings! You work never fails to bring a smile to my face so thank you so much!! I hope you guys keep writing those really cute reaction posts because I really do enjoy them! ^^

@kwoncity Ok so you don’t really post fan fictions BUT YOUR TEXTPOSTS AND DUBS ARE SO FUNNY?? Also: the Members Heights Measured in ___ series are so funny and I didn’t know I even need it. I just get so entertained and grin-y whenever I go through your post so thank you for bringing a little bit of sunshine in my life.

@ieechans despite you being inactive now, here is a little shoutout to you! Thank you for the time spent writing about seventeen!! Your blog had been one of my faves and I was pretty bummed when I found out you decided to leave. That’s okay though! You and your writings will forever be appreciated and they definitely did left an impression on my heart so thank you so much!!

@oppafeels Hey guys!! Happy FF Writer’s Day!! Thank you so much for the smiles that you guys have brought to my face!! Your Vernon Downpour fic was really cute! I hope you guys will keep writing!! I’m looking forward to your works!!^^

@ikyulkyung I CANNOT BELIEVE I JUST FOLLOWED YOU TODAY??? I’M SO SO SORRY T_T ALSO: SUPERPOWER!SEVENTEEN WAS REALLY GREAT!! I LOVE IT. Thank you for your lovely writings! All your hard work definitely did not go to waste bc I LOVE THEM!! I hope you’ll keep writing bc I really do enjoy reading your works!

@shuakkinda YOUR. SCENARIOS. ARE. SO. CUTE. Thank you for the fluffs that you’ve been giving me since day one!! That Wonwoo confession fic is still one of my favs (AAAAA SO CUTE!!!) Thank you so much for bringing much happiness to my days! I wish to see more of your works! JIAYOU!!!

I’m really sorry if I left anybody out but I really do appreciate every one of you!! Thank you for all your love and support!! I love you guys! Take care and please stay hydrated!!! Lot of hugs!! - Nat

#appreciation post #lots of love #I LOVE YOU GUYS!#THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING!!

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idealisticrealism · 7 years

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Blindspot 2x19 recap

(Aka the Scavenger hunt)

(Aka both Zapata and Shepherd getting arrested and Reade coming back and Patterson being adorable and Jeller ALMOST-KISSING AAAAAHHHHHHHH)

Well, here it is at last. This recap should have been posted a week ago, after already having been delayed by all the fic-writing, but just as it was aaaalmost done, my computer crashed and lost the whole damn thing. So here’s take 2 haha, and I’ll try to get my 2x20 recap up tomorrow, if I’m lucky...

(Warning: extreme flailing ahead)

Well, here’s to the amount of deja vu I’m about to experience lol. And just a note-- I’m gonna speed through the Shepherd scenes bc frankly I don’t care about them in the slightest. And so speaking of which, we're back in Bangkok and Shepherd’s using all the ominous language about how the guy should avoid the western world and blah blah she totally thinks she's so badass, yet she has no idea that the western world-- or specifically, the Weller & Patterson bro-sis combo, is about to Strike Back (;P). And so while she's acting tough and threatening the sellers of the toxic stuff, these two precious little catburglars are stealing all of her ill-gotten money. I love Patterson being about to go into a complex explanation of how, and Weller being all "Don't explain. Just type." haha. Aw, my little partners in crime. And then Patterson succeeds in freezing the account, causing all hell to break loose for Shepherd, bullets flying, her entire little posse getting shot down and she herself barely escaping with her life (though damn, for a middle-aged lady she sure still got some moves)-- and back in the lab, Weller and Patterson are just sitting there like.... 'well that was anticlimactic' hahahaha. Oh, if only you knew how much you had just ruined Shepherd's day lol. You would be as delighted as I am. Also damn she just went all Terminator on this guy, only to get nabbed by the cops which is SO satisfying even though we know she'll get free soon enough. But still, anything that pisses Shepherd off is just fine by me lol

Looollll it's the Right Boob Snake! I assume you guys heard the story from last year's SDCC panel, but in case you didn’t, the gist of it was that this tattoo is Rob's favourite because each tattoo is kept in a separately labelled storage container thing and this one is labelled with 'Right boob snake'. Also I love that we have literally never seen the team use a CG graphic of the tattoos until now, when it's one in a 'private area', which is so cute omg. I wonder if Weller is disappointed or relieved? Knowing what a gentleman he is, probably relieved lol. But anyway, they already know that the snake is the calling-card of a hacker guy, but they could never find him until just now, when he was picked up on facial recognition for the first time. Is it just me or does he kind of look like a less-attractive Henry Cavill? But anyhow they assume that he's going to hack into some mainframe or something so they rush to Grand Central to detain him. And awww Jane and Tasha both get their own little mini-teams to lead. Man, these guys are totally FBI elite, aren’t they? God all the other agents must think they are just so cool. I bet there's heaps of office gossip about them and people pick their favourite team member like fans do with the Avengers (which should clearly be Clint and Natasha, duhh) or Power Rangers or whatever. I bet all the Reade fans have been bummed lately. But anyhow, they've spotted their target at the station-- he just picked up a dead drop. Jane follows him, but he's clearly expecting trouble bc he notices her, then makes a run for it-- only to be grabbed by another guy. And for a sec I thought it was one of Jane's lackeys that she'd perfectly positioned-- but then that guy slits the hacker's throat and steals the package. Daaaamn. Also omg I find it hilarious that there's like instant screaming and running from the bystanders the moment it happens-- like c’mon, writers. These are New Yorkers. New Yorkers have got shit to do and places to be and they keep their eyes DOWN. They'd have to be standing right beside this guy and get their coffee spilled on themselves in the struggle to even notice at all. I do appreciate that Jane goes straight to the hacker to administer first aid rather than running after the attacker, leaving that to Zapata. Who does a damn good job of it, nearly catching the guy before he's shot by another dude who subsequently takes the package. Like damn, what is in this thing?? Zapata runs straight past the guy on the floor, not even checking to see if he's still alive, too busy giving chase to dude #3. Too bad, son. Weller, however, catches the guy first and kicks his ass very thoroughly, which we all know I am a huge supporter of. And inside the package is.... a Rubiks cube?? I wonder if it opens up when you solve it???

Lol Weller's bummed about going through all that for a Rubiks cube, grumping about it being a dumb toy-- and Patterson's all 'excuse u these are very cool adult things that totally normal and cool adults are into okay' and ughhh the little grin on Zapata's face just gives me life. Almost as much as the fact that when Patterson says the cube is related to Leakhub, Zapata immediately explains what it is to Jane, instantly knowing that she's in the dark about it and catches her up so she doesn't have to ask. Ughhhh Zapata is such an amazing and considerate friend and she just always knows what people need and I'm so glad that she and Jane are back to being buds again because they are the besssssttt. Then Patterson shows them the mannequin-challenge video that she found (idk exactly how, using her usual Patterson awesomeness I guess) that had the message from the Leakhub founders in it, hidden on the license plates. Damn. Sometimes I remember that this is a TV show and that it's written by actual real people and I think about it and I'm just like goddamn these people are clever. But anyhow. I love that the mannequin challenge actually came up at all (even though by this point in time, even in the show-universe, it would be a long-dead meme) just because the Blindspot cast and crew did a challenge of their own and this all feels very meta rn haha. I love Patterson approving of the classy iambic pentameter in the coded message too haha. And so they realise that the Leakhub founders are basically having a going out of business giveaway, handing over their cache of Super Secret Files to whoever completes their challenge. And on that list of documents is... dun dun dun... the Truman Protocol, which as we've heard is basically the basis of Phase 2. So if they find this document, they might be able to stop Shepherd. And, you know, there's also the fact that if any one of these documents gets into the wrong hands, it could have devastating consequences etc etc

Aaaand Shepherd is in some super tiny little jail thing, and will be taken to the consulate when it opens in ten hours. Yeaaaaahhhhh she'll be long gone by then. I do appreciate the guard guy verbally putting her in her place though. Too bad she'll probably kill him soon.

Lol Patterson has solved the Rubiks cube-- though not in the traditional way, as Weller points out, eyeing the randomly-coloured sides. She snarks that she could have solved it in 30 seconds (20 when she was in tournament shape appearently, and omg I adore her so much) but explains that the arrangement of the little colored squares per side IS the code, with each pair of them representing numbers or letters. Zapata seems to get it, bc that girl is honestly such a secret little nerd, but I personally would be in the 'smile and nod' camp with Jane and Weller rn lol. Basically it translates to a challenge where they have to hack one of a bunch of different documents. They realise, too, that there were other Rubiks cubes out there, and other people are also playing this game, meaning it's like a large-scale scavenger hunt. The team picks one that involves a big pharmaceutical company that is reported to have products that cause cancer, meaning they can complete the challenge in a bit of a Robin Hood way rather than causing more problems. Weller's totally ready to just ditch Patterson to get all hacky with it, but she drags him back, telling him that doing it by remote access would take her all day, and then before he even speaks she says in a super deep voice "we don't have that kind of time, Patterson" and then continues laying out her plan and oh my godddddd Patterson mocking her big bro is everything I have ever wanted in this world and more. I think I literally shrieked. Weller gives her this adorable 'excuse me??' look and ugh Jane is so completely failing at hiding her smile and omg I love this stupid team and their stupid family dynamic ughhhhhhh

Omg. Patterson's plan literally involves Jane and Weller going for a relaxing couple's stroll down the CEO guy's street, and I literally cannot even explain how delighted I am rn because Jane is literally loving it?? She's smiling like a kid, just so happy to be here with him, getting to do something relaxed and easy and just the two of them-- like literally she could reach out just a tiny bit and they'd be holding hands, walking down the street like any other lovestruck couple without a care in the world. And of course Weller notices her smile, and he makes a joke about them not getting shot at for once (dude, please at least knock on wood after saying something like that, geez), and ughhhhhh I love her little laugh and her bright smile as she looks up at him and then the way she giggles as a couple of kids race past them and omg she's literally almost giddy just to be out doing something normal with the man she loves and I am SO EMOTIONAL about it. And then sighhhh, the moment is over and the smile fades and she takes a deep breath and asks him about hearing from Nas, and how he feels about her leaving, given the whole thing with Allie having left as well, and oh godddd now I'm emotional in a much less pleasant way because she knowwwwwwwss. Jane knows/knew about him and Nas-- like she might even think that they were still together right up until Nas left-- and she puts her own feelings aside to make sure he's okay and aaaaarghhhhhhhhh this is the woooooorst. She has literally probably known since that damn baby shower in 2x08 and ugh I can't even imagine how it must have hurt her to see them both at work every day and know that they probably woke up together that morning or would be going home to each other that night and ugh noooo my baby. She just cares about him so much and suffers through it silently and ugh it hurts me. And Weller's pretty much all 'huh? Nas who?' bc lbr that was only ever just a stupid fling for him (emphasis on the stupid) and his heart has always been 100% Jane's but he probably thinks she's just asking to make sure he doesn't compromise the mission somehow by being distracted over Nas and there's almost a dry little chuckle in his voice as he tells her he's fine and ughhhh these two literally just need to have a clear conversation bc this is driving me CRAZY. Idiots. But anyhow, they've just found the guy's car (fortunate timing there) and so they stroll over, with Weller standing guard over Jane while she casually slashes though one of the car's tires like it's warm butter (bc she's a superhuman, obviously-- do you have any idea how hard it is to slash through a tire?? Hard!) but anyway tbh I don't know if anything could really capture my aesthetic better than this moment lol? And anyhow onto the next step-- the guy comes out and sees his slashed tire, only for a cab to conveniently pull up right beside him-- with Weller at the wheel haha. Ugh I love Patterson's customer service voice as she calls to tell the guy he's being hacked, almost as much as I love the little grin she and Zapata exchange as she does it. And then he tells her to piss off with her little scam, then calls the ‘real’ IT department-- only to be answered by Zapata, and omgggg if I loved Patterson's customer service voice I am DYING over Zapata's. Also what an asshole, he just hung up on Zapata mid-sentence?? So glad their little camera then watches him put in his password so they can steal all his stuff and expose him. But ughh I can't believe that Weller's voice has somehow managed to get even deeper and more gravelly than usual? I hope Jane can hear Cabbie!Weller over the comms rn bc I really want her to be able to experience this too haha. Honestly though do the writers of this ep have some kind of role-playing fantasy, or?? Because it's sure as hell feeling like it... not that I’m complaining

Aaaahhh Reade just showed up in the bullpen. Weller takes him straight to his office and I love the fact that while Reade immediately sits, Weller is standing for just a moment longer, meaning that when Reade apologises he's looking up at Weller. It's very 'penitent son' or something, idk. And Weller is so calm and steady, and ugh he could totally rip Read a new one for what he did but instead he's so supportive and forgiving and allows Reade to take the time off without the upper management ever having to hear what he did and ugh tbh I feel like season 1 Weller wouldn't have been this gentle?He would have been much more shouty. I think his experiences with trauma and betrayal recently have made him even more understanding and forgiving and despite what Reade said before, they ARE family. And Weller looks out for his own. And then ughhh Reade and Zapata... but wait he thanks her for 'sitting through that' and she tells him she's sorry... and oh no. Ohhhh noooooo. He really was abused. Oh god. I am so horrified and sad that he had to watch that and sort of re-live it. Ugh Reade my baby I know I've been grumpy at your behaviour lately but I am so sorry and I love you and I hate to see you hurting. Also their hug is so sweet ugh and wow she really is tiiiiiny lol

Awww Weller walks into the Bullpen and I love that his three ladies are all hanging out together at the same desk?? Like Patterson could be down in her lab with her lackeys and Jane and Zapata could have been off doing their own thing but instead they're all sticking together bc they're besties and ughhhhh I am so happy. Also have I mentioned how much I love this ‘Charlie's Angels’ kinda situation they've got going on rn?? Reade's away and there's no more Nas (#sosad), so it's just Weller and his angels and ugh I am so into it. Literally can we have a spin-off movie about this? Like Patterson is their computer whiz and Zapata is the demolitions/weaponry expert and Jane is their combat expert and they fight crime under the direction of their doting leader Weller and ugh just give it to me now. But anyhow the Leakhub peeps have received the files that they hacked from the asshole drug company guy (and which Patterson cleverly sent through fancy means so they'll never know it came from the FBI), and a new message comes, telling them to wear red, go to a particular place, and bring someone they trust. And uggghhhh just let me die, bc Weller doesn't even hesitate; he just immediately picks Jane to go with him. Their responses kill me-- Jane's head snaps around and she just stares at him; Zapata's all like 'of course you would' haha; whereas Patterson's all disbelieving and insists that she should be the one to go bc what if there are more puzzles??? This is literally her forte. Ooh and Zapata looks at him then like 'let's see you argue this one buddy' lol. And then Weller says he's great at puzzles and Patterson legit laughs before quickly putting on a serious face when he stares at her (yep, he may be your big bro but he's kinda still your boss, honey) and she says "Yes, in your own way" and ughhh Zapata is LOVING this and I loooove the fact that she looks to Jane (who is determinedly staring at the ground, trying so hard not to laugh) because they're best buds again and they're all sharing this joke at Weller's expense ughhhh. Oh man, I almost feel sorry for my lil boy. So outnumbered. So out of his depth. But because they love him, they let him pretend that he really is calling the shots, and Patterson relents (sidenote: what are those earring she's wearing? Like an inverted triangle underneath another upright triangle? Isn't there some culture where upside down triangle means ‘woman’ and upward pointing triangle means ‘man’? So this combination would mean... sex? Idk maybe I just made that up, but anyway enough about the sex earrings) and helps Jane pick out her red outfit. Maaannn I wish we had gotten to see the conversation she and Jane had in the locker-room (or lbr, the one she, Jane and Zapata had, all in there together giggling at Weller’s expense haha).

Oooh karma has caught up with Weller quickly-- he's right, he does look ridiculous. But I still dig it?? And it seems Jane does too haha. Ugh I loooove seeing her smile and laugh so much??? She's actually really enjoying this case and I think that has less to do with the relative lack of danger and more to do with the amount of one-on-one time with Weller ugh. Oh and now suddenly they're swept up in a sea of red, meaning Patterson and Zapata lose them. Ooops. So they end up at some big old industrial building, which Weller says used to be a sanatorium for TB patients back in the early 1900s. Well look at you, lil history buff! I am now headcanoning that Weller knows heaps of NYC history bc it was an interest he developed when he was younger (maybe young Weller couldn't face the future without Taylor so he spent all his time focused on the past ugh) and ugh now I want him to take Jane out on a walking date where he just tells her history of the places they see while they hold hands and eat icecream or something ugh. I can dream, right?? But anyhow the door is their first challenge-- a keypad with a note about the simplest answer being the right one, and a math riddle, and they just look at each other like 'man it would be great to have Patterson right now' lol. And Jane's like 'ugh maths is gross why don't we just guess' but Weller stops her and just reaches for the door handle and pulls the door open. The simplest answer was that the door was never locked in the first place. Looks like it's lucky Weller did go along, bc I feel like Patterson might have solved the equation without necessarily thinking of any other alternatives. Score one for Weller. Tbh I feel like I would have done the same as Weller, bc I would have just been like 'nope too much maths can I just yank it open by force instead' lol. Though man the riddle does give me some serious flashbacks to the IQ test I had to do in order to get into med school. The first third of the test was all stuff like that, and those logic puzzles like where you have to get all the animals across the river in a boat but it could only hold two at a time and some of the animals would eat each other if left alone etc. I actually quite liked that section but the middle third was more my jam-- we just read different paragraphs of text about people interacting with each other and had to determine why they did what they did/said certain things/how they were feeling etc. That part was awesome. The third part was literally looking at patterns and picking which weird shape should come next in the sequence and I really wasn't a fan of that one at all haha. But aaaaanyhow. I wonder what would have happened if they'd put an answer into the keypad? Like would it have just locked them out, or blown up in their faces?? But omg I love Weller's 'told you I was great at puzzles' and the way Jane just rolls her eyes at him omg these two are so marrieeeeddddddd

Wow okay so they pretty much just stepped into the human version of a bowl of skittles-- there's colourfully dressed couples everywhere, and looollll Jane makes a joke about being glad not to be on the turquoise team and ughhh my baby is such a goddamn cutie pie omg. The green team gives them shady looks, and Jane wonders if everyone here is a hacker-- but Weller says some would be mercenaries or bodyguards or spies. Great. Lol then suddenly the lights go down and epic music starts and a spotlight appears on a hooded figure and for half a second I almost expect it to be Rich (even though I know he's back in prison and has an entirely different body shape) bc this is totally his kind of style haha. But then the hooded figure reveals themselves to be... Kaylee?? Erm, I mean some lady hacker, meaning ooooh the Hacker Bros are actually sisters. Or were, since the other one was apparently killed in a boat crash. Um, okay. This is all a little weird. God she really does remind me of Rich though. I wonder if they've met? I bet they're friends. Or exes haha. And then crap she says that there's a cop in the room and pulls out a gun and dammit Jane your poker face is usually better than this, get yourself under control woman! But then she does sound super badass and in-control when the Hacker Chick asks her who she thinks the cop is, so phew. Aaaand oops, now the white team is dead. Well, a little less competition, at least?

Oh I forgot about Shepherd. She tries to connect with the guard about living with tyrants, but little does he know that SHE is the tyrant she's talking about. Ugh, I wish he had a tranq gun or something to knock her out with

Oh Readey. My baby is at the shooting range having all kinds of nasty flashbacks as he shoots, and okay either all his shots will have gone wild and missed entirely, or they'll all be right on top of one another in the silhouette-man's heart. Aaand it's the latter. Oh my poor traumatised son. You need more Zapata hugs ugh

Hacker chick is taking them all to individual rooms for the next challenge, and I love that when she holds up the hard drive of files, Jane looks back at Weller like 'are you sure we can't just attack her now and steal it? We could take on all these people' lol. But instead they head for their room (poor orange team just got dissed by the Hacker chick. That's what you get for wearing such a terrible colour lol) and omg I KNOW WHAT THIS IS. I loooove escape rooms, though I've never yet done one. One just opened in my town though so I'm gonna try to drag some friends along. Oh but before the key-finding can begin, there's a polygraph challenge-- "prove you can trust each other and you'll fin d your fates will be forever intertwined" yaaaassss I like the sound of this. It's true though, isn't it? If they reveal some of the things they've ben hiding from each other and then come through this whole ordeal knowing that they trust each other, they'll be one step closer to finally getting back on the right path, the one they’re meant to be on, the one that leads to marriage and babies and growing old together ughhhhh. And oooh Weller seems a little nerv ous about the polygraph-- if it asks him his feelings for Jane, he's screwed. He'll be even more at her mercy than he already is. Not to mention that he probably still thinks she doesn't feel the same and ughhh my boy is just not ready to be stripped of the last of his walls. Not like this. Whereas Jane is all 'let's do this' because she knows that if she needs to, she can beat the machine. Though I feel like that wouldn't be hard in this instance anyway bc it's literally missing half of the measurement devices that it should have, and somehow apparently can have answers of more than just yes or no? Mmmmkay, sure. But ugh the look they exchange when the chick is on the screen talking about them trusting each other. Both of them are like 'despite everything I trust you but I have no idea if you feel the same' and ughhhh I am so READY for this. And then lol the chick trolls Weller when he tries to talk to the recording. I love the humour in this show haha. But aaaahhh the first question is about meeting each other and their first impression, and I'm interested to know how this would work for those teams that are hacker + bodyguard/mercenary? Like 'we met this morning and he seemed like he would be really good at killing people so I thought that was good'?? Or maybe that’s the point, it's like an instant method of disqualifiying some teams, in that the questions are designed to show that they have a strong bond, a connection and trust equal to that which she had with her sister, so any pairs of strangers would automatically have to fail. After all, the rule specifically said 'bring someone you trust', meaning those teams broke that rule. Which means that Jane and Weller are automatically going to be one of the few teams that have a chance of winning. Excellent. But omggggggg the way Weller looks up at her sharply when she said she was terrified when she met him?? Ugh and he looks at the computer like 'wait no that can’t be right' and it comes up True and she looks at him all 'I did good?' and he's still processing that one because ugh of course she was scared-- she had no idea who she was or why this was happening and was locked in a room completely at the mercy of the people holding her-- but he would hate the thought of her being scared of HIM. But tbh I totally believe that the moment she first met him, her terror went from overwhelming to just a low background hum, because she just instantly recognised that he was Good and would try to help her and protect her. But wait hold on I want to hear about Weller's first impression too?? Because I feel like it would have been something like 'My first impression was that she was beautiful.... and that she was somehow both dangerous and vulnerable at the same time. From the moment I saw her I wanted to protect her.' and it would ping true and Jane would stare at him while he stared at the floor and ughhhhhhhhh why would you rob me of this opportunity show, whyyyy

Patterson's database just flagged that one of the fake documents made by Sandstorm's forger guy was just recently used-- and so they realise that Shepherd is in Bangkok. Dun dun dunnnnnn. They also still have no idea where Weller and Jane are either and are very stressed about it lol

Oooh wait Jane is answering again? Are they alternating and we just didn't get to see Weller's last question, or?? And ugh she answers that yes she's lied to him about something important. It's interesting that the question doesn't ask them to admit what the lie was, but that could either be bc the writers didn't want to have to go into it, or bc the Hacker Chick just wanted to plant that seed of distrust between the pairs and cause them to have an argument about it later. Of course this question doesn't have much of effect on Jeller bc they've already had their big reveal of all the lies and the subsequent fallout. Well, most of the lies, anyway. She's still got her Emma lie and he's still got his 'I'm stupidly in love with you but have made you think I'm not' lie. Though technically his lies-- that he's in love with her, that he hooked up with Allie and Nas to distance himself from her-- are more omissions than outright lies. But then aaaaaahhhhh Hacker Chick asks what the best/worst thing their partner has done for them (again, for strangers this would be an awkward one to answer bc they wouldn't really have anything to say) and ughhh Weller answers and talks about her getting inside his walls and ugh he's avoiding her gaze and fidgeting as he speaks, but then looks up and meets her eyes as he half-whispers that the worst thing was the same answer and ugh she can barely look at him, her eyes drawn to the screen instead, because ugh when he started speaking it seemed like her getting inside his walls was the worst thing-- which it did turn out to be as well, but there was more emphasis on it being the best thing and she must hardly be able to believe that he could ever consider being vulnerable to her like that as a good thing but the screen pings True and ugh she swallows and looks like she's trying not to cry and ughhhhh save me. And then the last question is hers, and it's about why they chose to work with their partner/why did their partner choose them, and Weller looks at her kinda like 'crap, how's this gonna go' but also simultaneously 'yes please tell me how you feel about working with me because I need to know that you'll stay' and ugh she says she chose him bc he's honest and loyal-- and then meets his eyes and says she trusts him with her life. And ugh he looks down, unable to hold her gaze, and you just know he's thinking about how he didn't protect her from the CIA and how he treated her like shit when she came back and how she still believes in him even after all of that and how he doesn’t deserve it. And he's probably also thinking that she's among the maybe three people he would trust with his life, with the other two being Patterson and Zapata (Reade's temporarily taking a break from the list) and yet the others are his hand-picked teammates who he has worked with for years and who have always proven themselves to him. Jane is an ex-terrorist who he's known less than a year and who has already lied to him and betrayed him more than once, yet he would still willingly put his life in her hands because he knows she would never let anyone hurt him. Ughhhhh. But then she says that he didn't choose her, he was forced to work with her, and he looks up and frowns a little bc the computer shows that she believes that's true but it's so totally opposite to what he feels and tbh I almost expected him to say something about it right then and there, but there's no time bc a little compartment pops open and there's locks to unlock. Also I just noticed that the symbol in the screen is a triangle with an eye in it overlying an inverted triangle, almost like Patterson's earring! What does it mean?? Are Jeller being followed around by a literal sex-symbol because I'm really starting to feel like the universe is trying to send them a message.... but anyhow the escape-rooming begins, with Jane finding two keys to Weller's one, then realising that the fourth lock is opened by the third lock itself. God she's so smart. I bet Weller is finding this super hot rn, bc I’m pretty sure the rest of us are. And then ta-da, a wall slides aside to reveal a window into the room next to them, where the blue dudes are still searching for keys. A message on the screen says that pressing the big button by the door will let them out, but fill the blue guys' room with deadly gas. Which means that getting to the files first-- saving a whole bunch of people-- will require killing two people in cold blood. Well, shit.

Well, if anyone tells you that slow internet never hurt anybody, show them this clip. This guard died bc of it, poor guy. But first he was talking with her about how Remi and Roman probably miss her and I'm like nooooope they certainly do not, my man. Ugh I'm so sad he had to die, though, like it was absolutely coming from the moment she got locked up, but ugh we were SO close to having her in US custody and then... sigh.

Ugh my precious babies are desperately searching for another way out, bc they refuse to press the button. And then ugh the blue guys unlock their last lock and see the same message-- and I appreciate that one of them tries to stop the other from pressing the button. Thanks for having honour, bro. But it's still not enough, and the other guy hits the button, releasing the gas-- into their own room, while Weller and Jane's door swings open. Plot twiiiist. Jane automatically moves for the door-- they have a mission, after all-- but Weller refuses to leave the guys to die, so he smashes the window and the two of them drag the blue guys out. Ugh, my babieessss. Unfortunately being good people means that the green team has gotten a chance to get out ahead of them, and they chase them down, catching one and absolutely kicking his ass in a freakin' awesome tag-team way, because these two are literally the most badass partners ever. And so they make it to the finish line-- but after the other guy in green, who grins at them like a cocky S.O.B. But then whaaat the white-team lady is there-- she's actually the other half of the sister duo. Niiiice. Jane's all ‘????’ and the chick makes a joke about her being a ghost and lol I love how absolutely done Jane is with all of this. Poor woman is daydreaming about being back on the sunny streets strolling along with Weller rn rather than being here trying to prove herself to these criminals lol. She tries to argue that both partners were supposed to get to the finish line, yet greenie is on his own, but Hacker chick shoots down that attempt. But then Weller, my precious cupcake, my secret cinnamon roll, argues that the whole point of the button test was to ensure someone with a moral code got the files, and reminds her that he and Jane risked the win by stopping to save two strangers. White-clad sister seems to like him-- er, I mean his argument-- and so the main hacker chick is all 'eh, sure, I love a twist' and tosses the hard drive to Weller. I bet Patterson, as amazing as she is, couldn’t have succeeded like that. The green guy tries to attack Weller but neither Jane or the hackers' bodyguards are having any of that shit lol. Nobody touches Weller :P And loooolll the chick reminds them that their fates are now forever intertwined and they look at each other kind of awkwardly and it's just like well guess you guys should just go ahead and get married now then...

Uh ohhhh, Zapata's friend from the precinct called her and says that the detective investigating Coach Jones' murder is about to start an inquiry into possible evidence-tampering in the case-- and oh no this could go very very badly. Ugh my baby I am so worried for you

Blah blah Shepherd has tracked the guy with all the toxic stuff and killed him, and now has all the goods (or should I say 'bads', heh) on a boat, headed for NYC. Whatever, lady. The team will stop you.

Aw Reade is having a session with Dr Sun. I still really, really don't like that the person now hearing all their most intimate confessions is someone brought on board by Nas. I also can't forget how she treated Roman like a monster, and incorrectly diagnosed him with a really significant disorder. I just don't think this team should be trusting any shrink that has any connection to government agencies rn. I do like how they're sitting in chairs side by side though, so he doesn't feel suffocated or trapped. And ugh he says that using is gun is triggering (heh) his flashbacks, and Dr Sun suggests he maybe separate himself from his triggers... which would mean leaving the team. As much as I love Weller and his Angels, I really do want Reade to come back eventually... I mean, Zapata would be so sad without him??

Speaking of our angelic team, they’re down in the lab, looking at the booty they just scored from the hackers. There's a loooootttt (maybe enough to drive a season three...??). Good thing it's in safe hands with these guys, who would never use it for evil. And then they find the !!Truman Protocol!! which is like the redactiest of redacted documents, but they can see that every POTUS since then (well, up to Clinton I) has signed it as well. Jane also spots a stamp with the letters COGS at the bottom, reminding them that Nas' source told her to follow the cogs. Ugh, my super smart baby girl, I'm so proud. And so somehow it all connects to Phase 2, but the question is how....

As any sensible person does in the face of such pressing matters, the team goes out for drinks. And ugh I just love Weller and his ladies having these little bonding moments away from the NYO, the four of them banding together because they are the only ones left fighting this war. Their ranks have been diminishing one by one, and they are the last ones standing, the handful of Spartans facing an entire army alone. Tbh though I really want to know which of them suggested the drinks; I'd like to think it was Weller, partly suggesting it to help morale but also partly so he might have a chance to talk privately with Jane with a little bit of liquid courage on board. And ugh he's so supportive now, reminding them all that they had a huge win today and now have a really significant new lead that will help them stop whatever Sandstorm is planning, and then ugh his savvy sister Zapata is like 'time for some Jeller alone time' and pulls Patterson away with her. Ugh, what a wingman. It's interesting bc we really don;t see thaaaaaat much direct Weller-Zapata interaction, but somehow I feel like-- of the pre-Jane team, I mean-- they are the most similar to one another and have a super good understanding of each other? He seems to act like the older sibling towards both Reade and Patterson, but with him and Zapata, they're more on a level? He still gives the orders but she subtly gives him crap about it and isn't shy to disagree with him if she thinks he's wrong. Like they'll never be tight like she and Reade are, but I definitely think they've got a really cool connection. But ANYWAY, the Wingman has departed with the Cockblock and this means-- as Weller ensures by literally looking over his shoulder, omg-- that Jeller have a rare moment of privacy. Jane's just happy chilling there with him; she has no expectations or anything, she's just so content to be sharing this kind of bonding moment with the others and to get to sit next to Weller and listen to him talk and catch the occasional hint of his cologne and just feel safe and wanted and included ugh. But Weller's been dying to have this talk since the polygraph because he needs to correct this belief she has that he's only working with her because he's forced to. He literally loves working with her, and that was part of what made her betrayal and subsequent absence so hard (and what made him so grumpy when she came back)-- because not only had he 'lost' the woman he was in love with, but he also lost the best partner-- yes, partner-- he'd ever had. She made him better, in every way, and for a while he lost that, and without it he spiraled. He was irresponsible in his personal life and barely holding it together in his professional one. So to hear, today, that she thinks he doesn't want to be working with her, doesn't want her around... he couldn't let her go on believing that. And ugh his voice is so cute when he tells her that he was never forced, and she teasingly calls him out on it a little bit, reminding him of when he'd refused to let her out in the field, etc. There's no malice to it though, her casualness showing that she understands he's moved on from that steadfast rejection of her, and his joking response of 'doesn't sound like me' is a way of acknowledging her point, but also subtly communicating that he in the here-and-now isn't the same/doesn't hold the same views as he did then. She smiles at that, then reassures him anyway, telling him that she actually meant they were 'forced' together initially by Shepherd's design and now in the mutual drive to take Shepherd down. And then he basically tells her he's completely okay with that, because though their enemy started them on this, it has enabled the to save a lot of people, to do true good.

AND THEN, he says 'and...' and takes this deep breath and shifts to face her, clearly working himself up to say more, and Jane is all "what?" because she's felt the change in the air between them; this wasn't just one of those patented Weller Reassurances where he bolsters the morale of his team. That was the lead-in to something else, something he's about to tell her, and she stares at him as he stares right back and tells her that all of it led him to her. And she smiles a little and looks away, not exactly knowing how to respond because she doesn't know where this is going, and it's kind of like when someone pays you an unexpected compliment and your body doesn't know how to react because your mind is instantly scrambling, and ugh she clearly expects him to kind of just stop there, or change the subject or something,,, and it's only when she looks back up him and he's still looking at her so intently and adds 'and you to me' that her face softens, filled with such looooongingggg and her breath escapes like a tiny little sigh and ugh there's such emotion in her eyes and then he shifts his arm and idc that it's out of shot, I am certain he is now lightly grasping her elbow, and he tells her that the two of them coming together is something he would never-- he literally emphasises the never-- want to undo. Which means that having her in his life is worth more to him than the ability to erase every bad thing that has happened since her appearance in Times Square. And ughhhhh there are tears forming in her eyes and there's a tiny shudder in her breathing because oh god this is everything she's ever wanted, to have his forgiveness and his love and have a chance for the two of them to start over, because she loves him, never stopped loving him even when she hated him, and so right now she can hardly believe this is real and ugh the way she looks down for a moment like she's drawing on the courage to believe in it and go with it, not even realising she's already subconsciously leaning toward him just a teeensy bit even before she looks up (because her body is already a step ahead of her poor overwhelmed mind and heart) and then she looks up and sees him also leaning in just a fraction, eyes still on hers, no mistaking his intent but also ready to pull away if she indicates this isn't what she wants, but ugh then her eyes meet his and she leans a little closer and it's like that tiny movement tipped them over the edge, and then he's slowly closing the gap and she tilts her head and they hold eye contact until the last moment and her eyes have just fluttered shut, scarcely half an inch of space separating their lips, literally no possible doubt remaining that both of them don’t desperately want this-- when Patterson calls out, and I love that while Jane pulls back like a startled deer (or rather, doe), Weller literally does not move. He's probably just too busy thinking 'I'm gonna kill you, Patterson' but I'd like to think it's also bc he's not afraid or embarrassed to get caught. Literally everyone else in the team already knows he's in love with Jane anyway (and actively ships it) so what's the point in trying to hide it? I love the fact that Jane glances back up at him and gives him that small smile before pulling away, and he just grins at her like 'so close...' while she scrunches her nose and mutters 'yeah'. They are very much on the same page when it comes to their exasperation with interruptions haha. And then ugh they're so cute as Patterson arrives, both straightening in their seats and Jane clearing her throat while Weller pretends his dumb grin is about the drinks and not the almost-moment he and Jane just had (because oh my god she was going to kiss him back) and then Zapata rejoins the table with a grin that says she knows very well what just got interrupted (while Patterson remains oblivious, clearly having been focusing on her footing rather than what was happening at the table as she approached), and as the conversation resumes, Jane looks back at Weller with this shy but elated little smile because oh my god he was going to kiss her. And okay maybe it didn't actually ~happen~ but it was literally so close to happening that it had the same end result anyway, which is that they each know now that THEY BOTH WANT TO DO THE KISSING WITH EACH OTHER. LONG-TERM AND EXCLUSIVELY. Someone help me I’m dying over this aaaaahhhhhh

Okay so I literally couldn't care less about Shepherd's scenes (except about the fact that they cut short the screen time of characters I actually like) but damn this overhead boat shot is actually pretty gorgeous. Nice one, team. And then she's all 'shiiit the FBI has the Truman Protocol' and we see the Green team with Parker and ooooh I wonder if they recognised Weller and Jane at the hunt?? Did they know she was the prodigal daughter and he was the golden boy? And yaaaass I love seeing Shepherd’s day get ruined. But then woah lady, no need to put a hit out on Weller because of it??? I agree with that slimy Parker, I thought he was vital to everything??? What the hell is Phase 2????

Lol the guy checking Zapata out as she walks along the street. Same, bro. And then oh crap, flashy lights and sirens and "That's her" and on one hand I love that they've got literally four cops there just to take her in-- frightened, were we, boys?-- but on the other hand I'm like nooooo don't you dare arrest my baby she's done nothing wrongggggggg (lately) ughhhhh

Aaand okay there’s one down, time for 2x20 lol

#Blindspot #Jeller #Better late than never ugh #ALMOST-KISSINGGGGGGGG AAAHHHHH #Blindspot recap

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survivorhoenn · 7 years

Text

Rites of Passage

LOGAN

Zack - I’m sorry you went home the way you did love. However, I loved the short time playing with you again! Ash - Ash, Ryan, Ricky, and Will, we never got to know each other this game, but I hope you all are doing lovely and I hope to play together again (if we aren’t already!) http://cdn.smosh.com/sites/default/files/ftpuploads/bloguploads/0413/epic-hugs-toy-story.gif Ryan - Ash, Ryan, Ricky, and Will, we never got to know each other this game, but I hope you all are doing lovely and I hope to play together again (if we aren’t already!) http://cdn.smosh.com/sites/default/files/ftpuploads/bloguploads/0413/epic-hugs-toy-story.gif Billy - Ahhhh Billy, you leaving is one of my bigger regrets in this game, ilysm and my PMs are always open to bitch about stuff <3 ;) Ricky - Ash, Ryan, Ricky, and Will, we never got to know each other this game, but I hope you all are doing lovely and I hope to play together again (if we aren’t already!) http://cdn.smosh.com/sites/default/files/ftpuploads/bloguploads/0413/epic-hugs-toy-story.gif Daisy - Ahhh Daisy I love you. I’m sorry there was a situation in which you felt the need to walk, but at least we didn’t have to suffer the potential of targeting each other this game. I hope you’re doing alright my love <3 Shea - Ah Shea darling, you are always so kind to me in these games and playing with you never fails to be fun, drama filled, entertaining, and overall filled w me loving you. I hope you’re doing good <3 Will - Ash, Ryan, Ricky, and Will, we never got to know each other this game, but I hope you all are doing lovely and I hope to play together again (if we aren’t already!) http://cdn.smosh.com/sites/default/files/ftpuploads/bloguploads/0413/epic-hugs-toy-story.gif Isaac - ISAAC I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THAT IS ALL Linus - Ah Linus, our time together was so short! You were very kind when we did speak, sorry that there was a situation in which you felt it was easiest for you to be voted off. Sara - Sara I will always adore you tbh, I played one of my first ORGs with you and you never fail to charm me. I’m sorry you left the way you did, but you are absolutely a queen and only queens get early merge boots. Lily - Lily, you are my child. I hosted you in the first ever game I hosted, but more importantly, I consider you a friend. I’m sorry I keep voting you out, but I really really love talking to you and getting to know you. You’re so easy to talk to and bond with and I will never be happy voting you out, even if it’s necessary. I hope after this we can still be friends, maybe even closer than before. I hope you’re feeling perfect. <3 Jay - JAY MY BUDDY MY PAL. You leaving was so fucking ugly and I cried just a little bit. I can’t wait to meet you soon!!! We’re gonna have a blast. Jordan - I didn’t get to know you very well even though we were together a lot. I’m sorry about the messes you endured around votes and our lack of communication, but I hope we can be friends after this and no hard feelings ;-; Matt - Aaaa you and I could’ve been so great had either of us opened the door to communication. I’m glad we were connected around Jay, but after that I’m sorry we didn’t chat too much. <3 Nicholas - NICHOLAS THIS WAS SO UGLY. This is the point in the game where my heart died just a little bit. I’m sorry we had to be separated in this way and you know I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH GOD. Duncan - DUNCAN MY BABY MY LOVE. Steffen did u dirty here didn’t he huh? I hope ponderosa is wonderful hehe, I’ll see you in the reunion. #BB forever. (Yes it means what you think it means.) Jordan - Thank you for being honest with me, for communicating, for being a pal to me even when we only voted together like twice maybe. You leaving hurt me just like everyone else except in a special way because I played with you in a time you were honest and loyal to people. I’m glad I got the experience of playing with you… let’s do it again some time? Seamus - Seamus, I adore you more than most. I’m sorry that I voted for you, but I will explain it all later. You gave this game your all, and tbh you should have won. I’m sorry it didn’t work out that way, but I hope we can continue to be friends because I absolutely love talking to you. Love you <3

STEFFEN

Zack-Literally a king, such a cutie patootie, I don’t know what you did to warrant first boot, but it’s a pretty neat spot http://popblerd.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/tumblr_mqbn4yCGRf1swuch2o1_400.gif Ash-She won, she did that, then she was like, I’m good, I got my million, see ya bitches later http://68.media.tumblr.com/bb46e83b2c61a535afa7f940d82be5b6/tumblr_nq15wtPLmm1r6lq9io2_400.png Ryan-Your entire tribal has me in a daze, partially cause I didn’t know what was going on, partially cause I was watching the Survivor Finale, and partially cause I drank an entire bottle of wine http://68.media.tumblr.com/0b56baba8b702cae369690efd719ead7/tumblr_njpa8uz9AF1tdbd5mo4_250.png Billy-Is this the first time you didn’t make the finale episode of a pokemon season, what happened https://i.imgur.com/qKzlp0c.mp4 Ricky-Not Miss Rickens https://i.imgur.com/7Xb5Gdk.gif Daisy-We swapped and you just kinda disappeared, what happened https://i.imgur.com/eg3gUXD.gif Shea-ok http://68.media.tumblr.com/85f4d6250d6b5d5dc4324fa043f2c125/tumblr_nqrz16v5dv1t046cio1_250.gif Will-A sweet bean if there ever was one, I wish you got to stay longer, but you know, kaiyo was swept away https://media.tenor.com/images/2bf9e0815adb31e4885a08f3c51714e7/tenor.gif Isaac-Have you checked out that bababussy yet? Linus-Sneaky Sneaky bum, ya gotta go Sara- http://imgur.com/a/hA7VK Nuff said tbh Lily-Whomst’ve’d’el’dve’is http://68.media.tumblr.com/8cb960ac9219b481337ccd0546719e70/tumblr_nnjhitGe0s1r9999yo1_400.gif I just imagine this is us Jay-There was like a whirlpool that happened, but then there was like a huge windstorm, it made like made a giant water tornado, I think it picked up some sharks, it was like a shark tornado, a sharknado, that sounds stupid, that shouldn’t be made into a movie series, either way I didn’t think we’d work together after all stars, but I mean we worked together for a vote….before our life self imploded but you know, its happened http://68.media.tumblr.com/c4a21a48b5979128c49e88623ee31ef7/tumblr_njpa8uz9AF1tdbd5mo1_1280.png Jordan Means-Your tribal was the first time I thought I wasn’t gonna get a vote, I really thot huh, your tribal began the hell storm that was ties at merge, I didn’t imagine you going home that night, but I guess things fell through https://media.tenor.com/images/773f7816237c6ba64306a7db5c7e4143/tenor.gif Matt-He was a fighter (I copied this from someone who didn’t talk to people a lot, kinda like me), I meant to talk to you a lot more, however I felt the situation made it hard to talk to you and that’s on me http://68.media.tumblr.com/95899816dacd7ac5d234f4d3ec2d21cf/tumblr_nqrz16v5dv1t046cio3_250.gif Nicholas-We slept together, and by slept together I mean we just slept through the entire game, it was done respectfully cause I’m a classy lady and we slept like 10 feet apart https://media.tenor.com/images/ca442e771ab527889554e1ee85a12335/tenor.gif Duncan-Me, idoling someone out correctly, how the heck did that happen tbh, though in all serious you were probably the person who extended me an arm when I had no one left and gave me life in the game, though you have to admit you had an irongrip on merge and that was impressive as all get out https://media.tenor.com/images/290d7156cc0b946db22053e2700bcc3e/tenor.gif Jordan Pines-I know what we had can probably never be repaired and I’m sorry, you definitely tried your fair share at times and definitely pushed everyone in this cast to their limits http://68.media.tumblr.com/e36fe6c7f4f2fc6ec6ca1a0b0422d2d8/tumblr_nymd74HQ3j1r6lq9io2_r2_400.gif Seamus-Warped Tour, more like a warped experience rip, you helped me so much through this experience, and thanks so much, I owe you for it https://media3.giphy.com/media/4xzOsxb7eJjsk/giphy.gif

CARSON

Zack- I literally wasn't on Skype when you were voted out sorry king

Ash- We didn't get a chance to play together : (

Ryan- We didn't get a chance to play together : (

Billy- Ok wow I screwed up with this vote. Usually, I’m someone who stays with people who show loyalty to me, and you promised to keep me safe while I was offline for a bit. But suddenly, the moment I come back on, I’m told I’m the target, but if I vote you instead, I’ll no longer be the target. My lazy ass bought it, and thus I helped get out the person who should have been my main ally this game. I’m sorry I attempted a messy facade early on in the game, because looking back it got in the way of working with people that actually had my back.

Ricky- Rickee what the heck! Stop quitting this isn't Supreme™ u FLOP

Daisy- Sorry you had to drop out of this game, i hope your reasons for removing yourself have improved. While I have this opportunity, I would also like to say through this game, Aegean, and Hawkins, I’m glad I got to know you better bc you're an amazing person. Wish you the best!

Shea- oop i wasn't there when you died sorry

Will- NNNNNN WHO IS RESPONSIBLE

Isaac- RIP America’s Sweatheart

Linus- We DID get a chance to play together, but it was short lived :/ sorry I'm a flop for not talking to you!

Sara- Robbed. Sara I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that my ugly ass voted you out. We played really well together in Midway, but we weren’t together at ALL during premerge and before i could even get a chance to talk to you, you were the target. You deserved a lot more in this game.

Lily- Robbed. You killed it during the premerge phase, which is probably why you were a target this early on in the merge. Sorry we had to push you out of an eight story apartment building window, but there was a pretty god possibility you had a few items up your sleeve, which is why you had to be blindsided. I’m so sorry it ended for you this way, just know that you played a stellar game, and that you were sent home because you were in line to win.

Jay- Talk shit get hit that’s all i have to say about that

Jordan- Ugh I literally feel so bad for you. You always play a great under the radar game, and then become a target without your own doing. I’m sorry its something that consistently happens to you, because you do nothing to deserve it. I know you'll have your shot at FTC eventually, just keep fighting for it.

Matt- omg you’re too pure for this cruel, cruel world. You were completely caught in the crossfire during your vote out, because you certainly shouldn't have been a target that round. I’m sorry we couldn’t save you, but it was fun having you as an ally : )

Nicholas- ASDFGHJKL you RAT MEME i wish you didn’t lead me on to thinking you ACTUALLY wanted to take out seamus. Anyways! I still love you as an org dad and a friend, and regardless of the fact that we were on opposite sides this game I’m glad we got to vent to each other about everyone else’s crackt asses it was really great <3

Duncan- i… literally had no idea how we were going to get you out. Everyone trusted you (well except for Steffen i guess) and you always seemed to stay out of the line of fire. You were always steps ahead of everyone else while pulling the strings. Congrats for playing such a great game, and I wish I could say you deserved better, but that would mean you'd be here and probably not me! Anyways, you should be very proud of the game you played!

Jordan- Whenever we seem to play together, I always worry we’ll have the same interactions as we did in Costa Rica where you blew smoke up my ass until I believed you, causing me to never vote the right way. This was a nice change. After being rubbed the wrong way on multiple occasions by an ally, you were gracious enough to take me in. I’m really glad I flipped over to you and can’t thank you enough for being the reason I’m here. I seriously would have quit for you because I owe you big, and you absolutely deserved a chance to win the season. I’m sorry you were another victim of Steffen’s Bag of Tricks™, because you seriously fought your way through this merge like no one else.

Seamus- I guess this will be the last thing you see from me since you accused me of being rigged for and then proceeded to block me, which is fine. I wish I had better things to say about you, because you had an incredible and unmatched command over the game, but what you said to me after losing the fire making challenge makes me want to take it all back. I’m sorry this wasn't the outcome you hoped for, and good luck in your future endeavors.

#neverenoughtrumpets #rites of passage

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